


Break My Chains, I'll Break Yours

by faequeentitania



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Blow Jobs, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, Explicit Consent, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Visions, Loss of Virginity, Missionary Position, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Self-Discovery, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Slaves, Telepathic Bond, The First Order, The Force, The Force Ships It, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faequeentitania/pseuds/faequeentitania
Summary: When Kylo Ren took on this mission, he had no intention of partaking in any of the gluttonous opulence his host prided himself on. He was there to negotiate on behalf of the First Order, that was all. Butthis girl, this little pleasure slave called Rey; there was a whirlpool of the Force inside her that he could not ignore. She was strong, that much was clear, butwhydid he feel so caught in her gravity, unable to break away?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many, _many_ thanks to [assortedfruitsnacks212](https://archiveofourown.org/users/assortedfruitsnacks212) and [anerdslife4me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anerdslife4me) for being the kind souls that they are and beta-ing this for me. I'm so very sorry that I suck at remembering dialogue punctuation rules.

He did not want to be there. He understood his place, understood the tools his master helped him to hone would be useful there, but the sight of this opulent, gluttonous pit of depravity made his skin crawl.

“This particular leader needs a little extra motivation,” Snoke had said, “A forceful reminder of the Dark Side, so to speak. Your presence will help him remember.”

What Master Snoke demanded, Kylo Ren fulfilled, which brought him to Nenn Cato, owner of this... _establishment_. He also happened to own a large swath of valuable materials that the First Order was eager to get their hands on.

“It’s not that I’m not _interested_ in helping you, it’s just not feasible,” Cato purred, trying to sound apologetic. “You have to understand, my friend, the First Order isn’t the only interested party in the goods we have here.”

“I think you’ll find Supreme Leader Snoke less than thrilled at the prospect,” Kylo answered testily, and Cato gave him a charming smile.

“It’s a big galaxy, Master Ren, Snoke can’t expect to be the only party in town.”

“But he is certainly the strongest,” Kylo reminded him, and Cato chuffed.

“At the moment, maybe, but rumor has it his big war machine is running into some issues. Care to shed some light?”

Kylo remained silent, letting his black, blank mask do the talking, and Cato chuckled.

_I don’t have time for this._

_“You will give us what we want.”_ Kylo pushed the Force behind his words, but Cato just sat there and smiled.

“Sorry, Jedi Killer,” he smirked. “Your mind tricks don’t work on me. And if violence is your next step, I think you’ll find my lieutenants very capable of making sure you never get a shred of my property.”

Kylo silently fumed, his hand itching for his lightsaber.

He opened his mouth to speak, when he suddenly felt a _presence._

He had felt the weight of multiple gazes on him since he entered the room; some looked with curiosity, some with apprehension, some even with hunger, and on his path to their table he had been forced to deflect several overeager hands from his person.

But none of them felt like _this_ , and he scanned the room, looking for their owner.

There. A girl. Petite, with brown hair and brown eyes, and she would be pretty if not for the thick, dramatic makeup and skimpy, impractical dress she had on. He frowned when he realized the reason for her over-the-top appearance; the gold collar around her neck. A pleasure slave.

But her _gaze_ ; he felt the weight of it like a hand on his chest, and he couldn’t tear his own eyes away.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Cato turn, following his line of sight, then chuckle.

“The girl has caught your eye, has she?” Cato’s words snapped his focus back to the matter at hand, and Kylo was finally able to pull his eyes away.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Cato smirked. “My newest prize. Won off of Unkar Plutt of Jakku, and I must say he was very cross to hand her over. She was his most requested pleasure girl.”

 _Most requested._ The phrasing made Kylo’s stomach turn, and an image of her being passed around like a toy came unbidden into his mind.

“Tell you what, Master Ren,” Cato purred, giving him a thoughtful look, “I’ll draw up a contract of what I’m willing to offer the First Order. Take a look at it, relay it to your Supreme Leader if you so desire, and we can negotiate in the morning. And because I am so very generous, I’ll send little Rey along to your quarters, let you enjoy her company.”

“I’m not interested in your fucktoy,” Kylo said, but Cato just laughed.

“Enjoy your evening, Kylo Ren. Trvak will escort you to your suite, unless you’d rather partake of the pleasures on the floor?”

Kylo knew a dismissal when he heard one, and despite his growing frustration, he knew playing along by Cato’s rules, at least for now, was his most likely route to a success here.

He stood, hands clenched and back stiff in irritation. “My room will be just fine.”

“Very well.”

The indicated guard, Trvak, nodded and led him on a path through the entertainment hall.

Kylo scowled beneath his mask. He pulled his mental shields a little tighter, trying his best to block out the cacophony of greed and lust filling every corner of this wretched place.

They walked by two Elomin who were taking turns pouring some kind of lime green alcohol into the mouth of a fat, drunk Chagrian. On a long, plush sofa, a green-skinned Twi'lek girl had her head buried in the lap of a dark-skinned human male, whose head was thrown back in clear ecstasy.

All the while he could feel her eyes on him, and he risked a glance her way.

The girl (Rey, Cato had called her) was perched on the lap of a raucously laughing Besalisk, one of his four hands wrapped around her thin thigh, and another spanned across her chest, his thumb tucked non-too-discreetly into her cleavage.

She was wearing a fake smile for the little group around her, but her eyes were fixed on him. Despite his shields, he felt a pull to her through the Force, and it made his breath leave his lungs in a shaky exhale.

It took considerable willpower to pull his eyes away, but the weight of her gaze remained until they were through the room and down the hallway of the guest suites.

“Your room, sir.” Trvak gestured to a suite, holding out an access card for Kylo to take, and Kylo nodded as he took it and entered.

It was a beautiful room, there was no denying that; an ornate, large bed, a long desk with a built-in monitor for access to communication, room controls, and requests for the amenities Cato’s opulent facility provided, and a wall that was entirely windows that lead to a balcony with a view of the surrounding rocky terrain. Kylo gave it a sweep with his eyes and with the Force, feeling out for anything that didn’t belong. There was nothing that he could detect, and it seemed that at least Cato’s sense of integrity when it came to the privacy of his guests held true.

“Anything else I can do for you, sir?” Trvak asked from the doorway, and Kylo turned his head back to answer.

“No.”

“Yes sir.”

The door closed, and Kylo was alone.

He sighed, removing his cloak and draping it across the back of the desk chair before sitting in it, intending to meditate. Force knew he was irritated enough to warrant it, and channeling his anger through meditation would hopefully make his eventual communication with Supreme Leader Snoke more bearable.

He closed his eyes, ready to open himself to the Force, when there was a knock on the door.

He growled, his eyes sliding open again, and he focused his thoughts to the person on the other side of the door, trying to ascertain who it was and their intention for disrupting him.

The girl. _Rey._

“ _Kriff,_ ” he growled, staring at the door.

He should ignore it. He should meditate, and put this girl from his mind. She was a distraction he didn’t need.

But the moment he had opened his mind, that pull was there, yanking him to his feet and driving him to the door.

He opened it, staring down at her.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she said softly, all big, soft eyes and red-painted lips. “Would you care for some company?”

“I told your master I am not interested in a pleasure slave.” His voice was clipped and direct at least, which was more than he could say for his thoughts.

A flicker of nervousness passed over her face before she could slip the pleasant, warmly smiling facade back on, and she gave a small incline of her head.

“I can be whatever you want me to be, Master Ren,” she said, trying again to persuade him, “pleasure takes many forms.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes, considering her.

By all rights, he couldn’t imagine a pleasure slave who wouldn’t be relieved to be dismissed without being used, so her persistance was strange to him. It was a possibility that Cato had instructed her to try to glean information from him; any scrap of juicy, personal blackmail he could salvage, Cato would see as a bargaining chip. The thought irritated him.

“And if my pleasure happened to be the act of killing you?” Kylo went for cruel, hoping to scare both her and her master off, and her eyes widened, the fake smile fading from her face.

“Do you want to kill me?”

It was a bold question for a slave, and Kylo balked for a second, taken off guard by her bravery.

“Will he hurt you?” he countered with a question of his own, and a slightly panicked look flickered through her eyes. The answer was yes, then, but he pressed on anyway. “If I do not accept you, will he punish you?”

Rey’s eyes lowered, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her dress.

“My purpose is to please our guests,” she said quietly. “Any master would punish a slave who does not fulfil their purpose.”

Anger was building in Kylo again, and his hatred of Nenn Cato grew. The sooner he could seal this deal and get off this disgusting planet the better.

“Enter,” he said gruffly, stepping aside for her to pass him, and she looked up with surprise. She recovered quickly, stepping through the door, allowing Kylo to close it again.

“What is your name?” he asked her, though he already knew.

“Rey,” she answered, “But you may call me whatever you’d like, sir.”

“Is that your real name?” he pressed instead. She seemed surprised at the question.

“Sir?”

“Is that your given name? Or is it some name he gave you that he liked better?”

He could hazard a guess from the way she was looking at him that no one had ever asked her that before, and she swallowed before answering.

“It is my given name,” she acknowledged. He could feel the truth in her words, and have a small nod of satisfaction.

“Do you know who I am?” He walked slowly toward her, and she tilted her head back slightly, keeping her eyes on his mask.

“Kylo Ren,” she answered. “Master of the Knights of Ren, second in command to Supreme Leader Snoke.”

Cato had prepared her well, and Kylo gave a little smirk that she could not see.

“And what do you know about me?”

He began to circle her slowly, and she allowed her gaze to drop to the floor, standing up straighter for his appraisal. “Only stories, I’m afraid, sir.”

“Stories? Intriguing. What kind of stories?”

His mask hid the way his eyes scanned over her, and even he couldn’t deny that the dress, though distastefully immodest, did allow the gaze to fall on the curve of her breasts and the pertness of her ass. Even the length of her legs seemed accentuated. She was lovely, he couldn’t deny that.

“Stories of your victories, mostly,” she said softly, glancing up at him. “My understanding is that you are quite apt at wielding a lightsaber.”

He couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped from his mouth. “You could say that, yes.”

She stole another glance at him out of the corner of her eye while Kylo continued to circle her, his hands clasped behind his back.

She wore no shoes, and her hair was done up simply but elegantly, no doubt in preparation for being grabbed or pulled by the men she was expected to bed.

This _girl_. What was it about her? He felt drawn to her, like her gravity was pulling him in.

His communicator suddenly beeped with an incoming message, and he sighed as he pulled it from his belt.

Hux. His lip curled in annoyance. He could wait a moment.

“If I haven’t made it clear, I’m not interested in using you for my pleasure,” Kylo said to her, and she looked up at him, unable to hide her apprehension. “But I won’t send you back to Cato to be punished. Just stay out of my way.”

She gave a relieved little nod, and Kylo turned his back to her as he finally answered Hux’s hail.

“Supreme Leader Snoke wants an update.” Hux’s voice was clipped and annoyed, as was his face over the hologram, making Kylo feel a little bubble of accomplishment. Anything he could do to make Hux’s life more difficult was a victory in his book.

“Cato is insisting on drawing up a new contract. He claims he will have it ready for me to review by this evening, with another meeting tomorrow to negotiate.”

“The Supreme Leader won’t be happy with that,” Hux growled, and Kylo huffed.

“Nor am I. But his resources are valuable, and he has the means to put up a fight if we go against him too strongly. I wouldn’t put it past him to destroy his own resources just to keep us from getting them.”

Hux made a sour expression, but this time Kylo agreed with his frustration.

“Send along a copy of this contract when you get it,” Hux instructed. “I will not allow Nenn Cato to cheat us.”

“Nor will I,” Kylo growled, pissed off at Hux for even questioning his capability to deal with a swindler like Cato. “I will send along the contract to _the Supreme Leader_ for review” -he paused, letting his dismissal of Hux hang in the air a moment- “though I am sure he will approve of any alterations I aim for. Ren out.”

He ended the communication before Hux could get another word in, silently fuming at the audacity of the general.

He was tempted to throw the stupid communicator across the room, but kept himself in check. Destroying his private line back to the First Order would mean having to use Cato’s, and he had absolutely no shred of doubt that Cato would interfere with it. So he returned it to his belt instead, turning back to the girl.

He blinked, unable to locate her for a moment, though he still felt her presence in the room.

She had retreated to an empty corner, sitting on the ground with her legs curled off to the side and her back wedged against the wall, just silently watching him.

“What are you doing?” he couldn’t help but ask. 

She gave him a little, confused frown. “Staying out of your way,” she said simply, and Kylo found himself unreasonably upset by the fact that her first instinct had been to make herself as small as possible in the most remote corner of the room.

“Get up,” he demanded. She obeyed without a word, standing in the corner with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for his orders.

“I am not using the bed,” he said gruffly. “You may make yourself comfortable there.”

She looked a little surprised, but gave him a nod and walked to the bed. She sat on the edge of it, her hands still clasped, and looked toward the floor. Her tension was visible, and he could not understand it.

“Why are you afraid?” he asked her, his inquiry making her look up. Kylo could see her trying to hide her emotions behind her default, pleasing mask, and it made him grit his teeth. “No. Answer my question honestly.”

Her eyes darted over his face, or rather, his mask, but she opened her mouth to speak, “I am not sure what you desire from me, sir. I don’t know how to please you.”

He considered the fact that the use of her body had probably never been turned away before. Her uncertainty about what to do in his presence was in no way surprising.

“You can please me by remembering that I will not demand anything of you while you’re here,” he said gently, and an unreadable expression passed over her face. “So you are free to relax. I will not harm you. Sleep, if you so wish. Use the refresher, if you’d like to scrub that makeup off you. I am going to meditate, so I desire quiet, that’s all.”

She gave a little nod, which he returned, before walking back to the desk chair and sitting down, his elbows on his knees. It was not the traditional meditation pose by any means, but he found that it was the way he was most comfortable.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, opening to the Force.

It was like being sucked into a whirlpool, her presence was so strong. He was thankful for the mask when his mouth opened in surprise, his heart rate accelerating, drawn into her beacon.

 _Who are you?!_ He marveled, opening his eyes, finding her watching him. Could she feel him too? He couldn't be sure. It was clear that she was completely untrained. It was possible that she wasn't even aware of the power residing inside her.

The thought shot a thrill through him. Raw, untapped power like hers needed a teacher. He could show her the ways of the Force, take her under his wing, see what kind of heights his tutelage could elevate her to.

He made himself close his eyes again, take a deep, slow breath. He let himself unravel more, seeking guidance from the Force, needing clarity of mind.

The Force pulsed through him, and he pushed out, beyond the room, beyond the whirlpool of power contained within the girl on the bed.

He felt the greedy lust emanating from the other rooms. He felt the misery and suffering of the slaves, how they endured every repulsive touch of their master’s clients, making the fire of anger stoke in his belly again.

He concentrated on his anger, letting it wash over him. His anger that places such as this even existed, wasting away lives and time in meaningless, opulent gluttony. His anger that he must be witness to it all for the sake of this contract. His anger at Hux for daring to question his efficiency.

He let it all build, then turned to older, deeper angers. The angers that kept him going, pushed him deeper into the arms of the Dark Side. The wounds like old companions by now.

He was unaware how much time had passed, but by the time he was slowly pulling out of his own head, out of the throes of the Force, he felt centered, his rage squarely back in the center of his chest, pumping him with restless energy.

He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately fell on her.

She was laying on the bed, and she must have used the shower, as her face was devoid of the heavy makeup she had arrived with and her hair was damp and loose around her head. He was right; she was prettier without the makeup. There was a vulnerable softness there, a delicate kind of strength. She was captivating.

She wasn't quite asleep, but dozing, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to reach out and brush against her mind.

Rey opened her eyes with a little gasp, but he didn't withdraw.

Slowly she sat up, looking at him with a sense of awe. “Is that... you? Doing that?”

“Yes.”

The temptation to push further was there, to slide through the layers of her mind and extract all her little secrets. There was no reason to, he acknowledged; she was not a prisoner, she was not anyone with worthwhile information as far as he could tell.

But _this girl_. There was something...

Before he could stop himself he was pushing in, her mind as open to him as a book, and he licked his lips.

A desert. Nights of terrible loneliness, body sore from hard work, scavenging out in the blistering sands, and throat parched dry and thirsty. Later, nights spent withdrawing into her own head as some brute or another used her body, thrusting uneven and hard, with no care for her comfort.

She would dream of an ocean. An island. A place that was opposite in every way to the harsh landscape surrounding her.

He dug deeper, her past flashing through his mind’s eye chaotically, out of order, but he just needed-

“Stop.”

His brain didn’t process what she had said, though he could feel her struggling against him. People often did, when you pushed deep enough; a reaction born from instinct, from fight or flight.

A glimpse of a memory, of a tiny girl crying out to a retreating ship-

_I said stop!_

Like slamming into a brick wall, the memory was cut off, then a brutal, sudden shove-

They both gasped at the feel of her suddenly tumbling into his mind.

Kylo was too stunned to react for a few moments, gaping open-mouthed at her beneath his helmet, and her face mirrored his shock.

There was no control, her power pushing chaotically through his mind before he could gather his wits about him and shut her out.

He was on his feet, breathing heavily and staring at her as she panted, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Stay here,” he commanded. “Don't go anywhere.”

He needed to collect himself, he needed a breather.

He stalked into the hallway, his breath echoing in his helmet. The noise of the pleasure room echoed down the corridor, grating on him, so he went the opposite direction, seeking a moment of quiet.

She was stronger than he realized. Much, _much_ stronger. And it was clear she hadn't the faintest clue how deep her strength went, or she sure as hell wouldn't be a pleasure slave.

He needed to call the Supreme Leader. This girl could be a valuable tool; he needed to be informed of her, instruct Kylo on how to best coax her to join them.

He could buy out her contract with Cato, he felt sure. To Cato, she was just a pleasure slave; there was no reason to hold onto her if the price was right.

This girl...

There was something he couldn't place. She was strong in the Force, yes, but it didn't explain this _pull_. He had known Force users his whole life, and it had never felt like this.

He tucked himself into a quiet alcove and called the Supreme Leader.

“Kylo Ren.” Master Snoke’s voice slithered over the communicator, making Kylo feel as though ice had slipped into his stomach. “General Hux informs me that Cato has been resistant to our business.”

“I will handle Cato, Master,” Kylo answered, bowing his head. “But I seek your guidance on another matter.”

He told him of Rey, of the raw strength he had found, of his belief that this girl was not just some regular Force user.

“Intriguing,” Snoke pondered, and across the Force, even from this great distance, he could feel Snoke sliding inside his mind to see for himself.

Kylo shuddered, but allowed his master to see, pushing down his revulsion at the intrusive, sinister touch.

“Bring this girl to me when you return,” Snoke instructed. “If her power is as strong as you perceive, she will be an asset to us. Whatever you must offer to Cato to achieve it, do it.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Kylo acknowledged, and the communication ended, Snoke withdrawing from his mind until he was alone in his head once more.

He closed his eyes, holding the communicator loosely in his hand down by his side, and centered himself. Confirmation from his master had helped restore his confidence, affirmed his instincts were correct. Now it was just a matter of handling her, then Cato.

He stalked back to his room, mind spinning at the possibilities that awaited him once he stepped through the door.

The room appeared empty at first, and anger flashed through him at the thought that she had fled, despite his instruction to remain. Then he reached out with the Force, and she was there. She had locked herself in the refresher.

He moved to stand outside of it, pushing curiously at her mind. Fright, uncertainty, shock; he gleaned a quick glimpse of her emotions before she realized he was there, and shut him out in a panic.

He was taken aback, and pushed again experimentally. Immovable. If she had figured out how to shield her mind from him on her own, after only a few moments of his intrusion earlier...

“Who _are_ you?” he whispered wondrously.

“Rey,” he raised his voice loud enough to be heard through the door.

No answer. He could undoubtedly force his way in, but he was hesitant to scare her further.

He placed his hands on the door, leaning close to it.

“Rey,” he said her name again, “don't be afraid, I feel it too.”

He thought he heard a scoff, and he couldn't help but be amused at her spirit.

“Let me in.”

He leaned his forehead against the door, trying to listen for movement, and a handful of seconds later the door beeped to signal the lock being disengaged.

He cautiously slid it open. She was sitting on the closed toilet lid, gripping the sides of it tightly and staring at the floor.

“What did you do to me?” she whispered.

He stepped forward slowly, coming to kneel on the floor in front of her and sitting back on his heels to regard her solemnly.

“I woke you up.”

She looked to his face, into the eyes of his mask, and her gaze held a searching expression. The confines of his helmet suddenly felt suffocating.

He reached up, pressing the latches that would release it from his head, and her eyes widened.

A soft tug and it came free, Kylo shaking his hair slightly as he put it beside him on the refresher floor. He swallowed before he looked up, regarding her for the first time without the filter of his mask.

Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted; he watched her gaze skip all over his features.

“Not what you imagined,” he said softly, and the sound of his voice, unchanged by the vocal modulator, seemed to startle her as well.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. He considered her, tilting his own head to the side minutely. “You imagined a monster.”

She bit her lip, and he couldn't help the tiny pull to the corner of his mouth.

“What do you think?” he asked her quietly, and her eyes widened just a little bit more in surprise.

“Not a monster,” she whispered, a creep of pink crossing her cheeks.

“Mind if we move somewhere more comfortable?” he nodded toward the main room, then looked back to see her gaze drop away from him, returning to the floor.

“As you wish, sir.”

“No,” he said insistently. She looked back up in apprehension. “You will not call me ‘sir.’ Kylo. Please.”

“Kylo.” His name sounded sweet from her lips, and he stood, offering her his hand.

A moment of hesitation, then she took it, gripping his gloved hand delicately.

He guided her to sit on the bed once more, while he returned to the desk chair.

He explained.


	2. Chapter 2

She knew of the Force, of course she did, the legends of it echoed throughout the galaxy, even on the most remote of planets. He told her what he had sensed in her; the power, the promise, the ways she could learn to wield the Force at her command.

He did not mention his pull to her.

Rey’s eyes never lifted from the bedcovers, staring intently at it as he spoke. He didn’t have to see into her mind to read the doubt and trepidation in her.

“Master Ren-”

“ _Kylo._ ”

“Kylo. What you say is... is a lovely idea. But I can’t possibly-”

“You can,” he insisted, and her fingers tightened in the blanket as she took a deep breath.

“I’m nobody,” she whispered. “I’m a pleasure slave. Why would the Force choose me?”

“Why does the Force choose anybody?” Kylo countered gently. “The Force chooses who it wills, there is no criteria. This is who you were meant to be. You just need a teacher; I can show you the ways of the Force.”

She looked to him, a mix of surprise and hope on her face, and it made Kylo’s heart ache in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The feeling took him by surprise.

“You want to teach me?” Rey asked softly, disbelieving, and he nodded, finding his heart beating unusually fast.

He was... anxious? Eager? He longed for her to say yes, was already thinking to how she would be as an apprentice; the way it would feel to constantly have her by his side, watching her grow in her abilities, the two of united as a team, a partnership.

“Nenn Cato will never allow it,” she murmured sadly, and his anger prickled; not at her, but at Cato, and his slimey, poisonous influence.

“Let me worry about Cato,” he promised. “I know how to deal with swindlers like him.”

She graced him with a little smile. “I hope you’re right, Kylo Ren.”

His name had never sounded as good as it did coming from her lips, and he swallowed thickly, momentarily caught up in the swirl of emotions that overcame him. The pull to her, deep in his chest and in his mind, flared to life.

“Are you hungry?” It was a question to distract him just as much as her, and she blinked in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

“Food.” He stood, trying to regain control of his fluttering heart. “Cato can wait, he and I have a contract to negotiate anyway. But I’m sure you must be hungry, are you not?”

“Are you?” she asked in return.

“Food is fuel,” he replied, shrugging one shoulder. “I eat to survive, feeling hungry doesn’t phase me much.”

“You have never lived without the promise of a full plate, then.”

Her face immediately colored, and she averted her eyes from him in embarrassment. “Forgive me, sir. I- I don’t know what possessed me to say such a thing.”

Kylo, meanwhile, was delighted by her spirit. This pleasure girl was full of surprises.

“Stop calling me ‘sir.’ And don’t apologize, I am eager to hear you speak your mind. I am not Cato, Rey. I will never punish you for voicing your thoughts.”

She looked up demurely, clearly still embarrassed, and he gave her a little smile.

“Use the guest terminal to select a dinner for us. Whatever you like, whatever the credit cost, it’s of no consequence to me.”

“Are you certain?” she asked, apprehension back on her face, and his eyebrows furrowed a little.

“Of course I am certain.”

“I mean... you truly have no preferences?”

“I do not,” he said encouragingly. “Well... unless you chose a dish that is served alive. I’d rather not have to battle my food in order to eat it.”

She giggled, and Kylo’s gave her a soft smile.

“As you wish.” She smiled, getting up from the bed and moving to the guest interface in the wall.

He retrieved his mask from the refresher while she ordered, placing it on the desk instead, and it happened to coincide with the arrival of Cato’s contract.

Kylo skimmed it on the desk’s interface, getting progressively more annoyed as he read. Cato was a two-bit crook, which Kylo already knew, but he didn't think he was so bold as to try to rip off the First Order this blatantly.

He sat down at the desk with a frown, momentarily forgetting everything else, and started marking all the clauses that were to be renegotiated. It was a hearty list.

The knock on the door surprised him, but he remembered after a second of confusion that he had asked Rey to order them dinner.

“May I?” she asked, and he nodded with a wave of his hand, distracted again by the contract.

A droid hovered the dining tray in, and despite his claims of not being much bothered by hunger, Kylo’s traitorous stomach panged as the scent of the food hit his nose.

“Will you join me?” Rey asked him as the droid took his leave, and Kylo glanced up.

“Let me finish reading this joke of a contract Cato sent,” he growled in irritation, frowning at it. “I don't know who he thinks he's dealing with, but he is sorely mistaken if he's under the impression that the First Order will accept this. Don't wait for me, I will eat when I'm finished.”

She seemed unsure, and he looked up again to see her biting her lip.

“I mean it, Rey. Eat. Enjoy it.”

She finally nodded, turning to the dining tray to select one of the covered plates.

He couldn't help but notice that she had ordered wine to go with their meals, though she did not reach for it herself; selecting instead to pour from the pitcher of water. A strategic choice under most circumstances, he had no doubt; get a client drunk enough and they would pass out before being able to demand her services.

He forced himself to return his attention to the contract; the faster it was done, the faster he could put it out of his mind until tomorrow.

He was in the process of fuming over a particularly outrageous demand when she crossed the room to pull herself up onto the desk, crossing one knee over the other as she balanced the plate in her hand carefully.

“Here,” she said, stabbing a piece of what appeared to be some kind of meat onto the end of her fork and extending it toward him. “Eat something.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, but she looked back with surprising resolution.

“I don't need to be spoon fed,” he said flatly, and she gave him a little smile.

“I know,” she replied. “But I know that look. Cato has that effect on people. So I want you to eat before you get too annoyed to. Trust me, I've seen it happen. And this food would be a shame to waste.”

He considered her for another moment. She seemed almost... concerned. And even more miraculous, it seemed genuine, instead of an act she was putting on to please him in some way.

His hand closed around hers, guiding the fork the rest of the way to his mouth. It was good, there was no denying that, whatever it was.

She seemed satisfied that he had accepted the offering, and stabbed a piece of a purple vegetable on the plate for him next.

It was... startling intimate to be fed by another person, he was realizing. Her gaze bounced between his eyes and his mouth as she brought the fork to his lips again, each mouthful a different food from the plate.

When she had circled back to the meat, he stopped her from offering it to him with a gloved hand on her wrist.

“Your turn,” he insisted. “Please.”

She seemed to be searching his face for any indication that he was not serious. He wondered if other clients had been so cruel to her, and the thought made his blood boil. He nodded at her instead of letting his anger show, and she gave a little nod back, tentatively bringing the fork up to her own mouth.

Rey seemed to be trying to hide her pleasure in the food, and Kylo watched her take another bite with interest.

She had never tasted it before, he realized suddenly. There was no way the slaves were offered the same delights as the clients; they probably endured on bare-bones military rations or nutrient supplements.

He couldn't wait to get her off this Force-forsaken planet. She'd never be without a healthy meal ever again.

She went to offer him another bite and he once again refused, encouraging her to have it.

“I want you to eat until you are satisfied,” he instructed her. The genuine surprise on her face made him want to snap Cato in half, along with every other client who had never thought to offer her a good meal in their presence.

He forced himself to return his attention to the contract, hoping it would encourage her to eat for herself instead of trying to focus on him.

He was halfway successful, in that she took a bite of each type of food from the plate, just as she had fed to him, before attempting to offer the fork his way once more.

He said her name, beginning to correct her, but she beat him to speaking with a gentle plea, “I want to share with you. Please.”

He looked up from the contract once more to find her expression insistently earnest.

“Very well,” he sighed, finally accepting the offering.

“Shall I pour you some wine?” she asked him, and he shook his head.

“Just the water for now.”

She slid off the desk to fetch him his own glass, and it reminded him that she was still in her impractical, skimpy dress. He would do something about that.

He should have called the second fork from the tray and fed himself while he read. It would have been be more efficient, and certainly less distracting.

Instead he allowed her to continue to do it, stopping to read when she fed herself but giving her his attention when she would insist on bringing a mouthful of food to his lips.

When the plate was done and their glasses were empty, she nodded to the dining tray. “There is another plate.”

“Are you still hungry?” he asked her, and she shook her head. He tried to sense the lie in the action and found none.

_In all fairness,_ he thought, _This food is probably too rich for her to handle that much of._

“Then leave it. We can eat it later.”

“Surely you're still hungry?” she questioned gently, and he admired her persistence. It had been a long time since someone had seemed concerned that he was eating enough.

“I assure you, I am satisfied.”

Which was true. He could eat more, there was no denying that, but the hunger pains that the scent of the food had brought on were gone, which was all he cared about.

She returned the plate to the dining tray while he subtly sent a request down to guest services.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and she threw a questioning look his way.

“Answer it,” he said with a nod.

The door slid open and the droid in the doorway offered her a garment bag.

“As requested,” the droid intoned. Rey took it with a slightly confused expression.

“That's all.” Kylo waved the droid away.

“Very good, sir.” The droid gave a nod.

“What's this?” she asked curiously, and he indicated with a wave of his hand that she should open it.

The new dress was white and trimmed with gold. It had a v-neck and no sleeves, but it would at least come down to mid thigh, if not a little longer. It was modest but elegant, and he had to admit that whoever had chosen it to be sent up had good taste. He was pleased they had taken his request seriously.

“I thought you might like something a bit more comfortable,” he told her, suddenly apprehensive, as she had not said anything since unzipping the bag. She was simply staring at the dress, her face turned too far away from him to see her expression.

“Have I made an error?” he finally ventured nervously, tentatively reaching out, trying to read her emotions. She was still shielding, much to his frustration, but she finally turned to look at him, bringing the dress up to her chest and hugging it.

She seemed to be trying to hold back tears, and he blanched, having no clue what he had done wrong. Had he offended her, by implying that her current dress was subpar?

“Thank you,” she whispered. “This...”

She looked back down to the dress, giving a little sniffle. “You have been kinder to me in the span of a couple hours than anyone has been to me my whole life.”

He felt a blush rise to his face, completely taken off guard by her gratitude.

_Kind._ He had not been called kind in many years. He had not _felt_ kind for even longer.

“I...” he floundered, and she looked up at him with wet eyes. He swallowed thickly, a long-forgotten, tender feeling unexpectedly blooming deep in his chest. “I'm not sure what to say to that.”

She gave a little, watery laugh, and looked back to the dress. “Let me put this on.”

He nodded, and she disappeared into the refresher to change.

This was dangerous. Her emotions pulled at something in him, something he had worked to suppress, cut out. When she had looked at him just now, with tears in her eyes, it was like she had pried open his chest, digging out all the sentimental, gentle, tender parts of him he had worked for so long to eliminate.

It made him uneasy, a restlessness trumming through his body, so he stood up to walk to the window. The landscape was mountainous and imposing, and his gaze followed the distant, jagged peaks.

He closed his eyes after a moment, trying to center himself again.

A delicate touch to his arm brought him back, and he turned to look at her.

She was lovely. He knew that already, but seeing her in something soft and flowing was an experience all its own. She seemed to stand taller, more confident, and the idea of what she would look like in First Order black, dangerous and strong, came into his mind’s eye.

What a _pair_ they would make.

“Have you finished with Cato’s contract?” she asked him, and he shook his head.

“I just needed a moment.”

She nodded in understanding, then looked out the window in front of them.

“A very different sunset than Jakku, I imagine.”

She looked at him in surprise, and Kylo shrugged one shoulder.

“Cato told me. Was bragging about winning you off of a man there called Unkar Plutt.”

She nodded again, returning her gaze out the window, but it was sombre now, a quiet seriousness.

He burned with curiosity, and he couldn’t fathom why. He had seen glimpses when he had pushed into her mind; the struggle of life on Jakku, the hardship of scavenging in the hot, unforgiving desert as a child, then the degradation of the sex slavery she endured once she matured. He got the distinct impression that her days were monotonous in their struggle, but those were only glimpses, and he wanted it _all._

He turned away. The temptations this girl brought... perhaps it would not be wise to teach her himself. Master Snoke would be a much more impartial instructor.

The thought made him feel ill. Master Snoke’s ways were appropriate for him; Kylo had come to him with brute strength he could not control and impractical lessons left stuck in his mind from Skywalker’s attempt at Jedi tutelage. Kylo had needed a strong hand to correct him.

But Rey was not the same. There was incredible strength there, absolutely, and she had already learned from his intrusion into her mind earlier, showing her to be a quick study. She did not require the heavy bit and bridle he had, but he doubted that Master Snoke would appreciate that.

The contract. He needed to focus on that.

He returned to the desk, and she lingered by the window for a few more minutes, watching the sunset as he worked.


	3. Chapter 3

He attempted to ignore her when she came to stand by him at the desk, an effort that was completely broken when she leaned forward, her chest pressing against his shoulder.

“That's a lie.” She pointed to a segment of the contract. “That stuff is not rare, he's got more of it than he knows what to do with, he's trying to drive the price of it higher.”

He looked at her in surprise, and pink colored her cheeks.

“People tend to forget that we’re listening,” she said softly, with a little shrug of one shoulder. “Or they think we’re too stupid to follow the conversation.”

He couldn't help but smile, and she gave him a shy one back. “An error he will live to regret. Where did you learn to read?”

“One of the kitchen slaves was a teacher, before she was captured and sold. She taught all of us.”

That filled him with a stupid kind of glee. Educated, unhappy slaves, right under Cato’s nose, was a recipe for dissent. And the First Order could most certainly be there to scoop them up when they did.

“Perhaps you should negotiate the contract tomorrow, your knowledge is certainly valuable.”

Her face got pinker, and he nodded at the contract. “Any other insights you’d care to offer?”

She helped him comb through it, sitting on the desk and pointing to inconsistencies in Cato’s claims and offers, and by the time they finished Kylo was actually feeling _confident._

“Thank you,” he told her, moving the chair away from the desk to lean back, rolling his stiff shoulders. “I'll negotiate your freedom separate from the materials contract, as I'm hoping he will accept a simple credit payout.”

The look she gave him made him pause; she appeared on the verge of tears again, and he had no idea what he could have said wrong.

“My freedom?” she repeated in a whisper, and he furrowed his brows in mild confusion.

“Yes,” he replied simply. “I told you, I want you as my apprentice. I will buy your freedom so you may return to the First Order with me.”

“I thought...” She shook her head and let out a shaky breath, her hand coming up to the gold collar at her throat.

She thought he would keep her as his slave. That being his apprentice would just be a different form of the slavery she was currently under.

“I have no desire to own anyone,” he told her seriously. “Least of all you.”

The collar was a security measure as much as a designation of her function; the clasp was fixed with a tracking chip and a sensor that would sound the alarm if removed by anyone but the slave’s owner.

Thankfully, Kylo was not bound by the same limitations as most of the patrons who walked through Nenn Cato’s doors.

He leaned forward, reaching to the back of her neck to touch the clasp, and pushed his will into it. He could sense the little circuitry and electrical bits that enabled it to function, and aptly turned them off.

“Better,” he mumbled to himself, then reached his other hand up to disengage the clasp.

She gasped, her hand flying up to it in a panic.

“The alarm-!”

“Disabled,” he said smugly. “These things are fairly simplistic, if you know what to do with them. I'll teach you.”

He tossed the gold collar to the ground, then gently traced where it had been on her neck with his fingers. She held still, and he could see her pulse beating wildly in her neck; he had the sudden urge to put his mouth there. He guiltily shoved the desire away.

“Kylo,” she said his name softly, drawing his eyes back up to her face as her hand landed gently on his arm. She looked emotional, vulnerable; the sight of it twisting at something in his chest.

She bit her lip as she gazed at him. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

He was frozen in momentary shock when she slipped off the desk and to her knees, her hands going for his belt.

She managed to push the unfastened belt ends to the sides and was trying to shove up the end of his thick, protective tabard when he came to his senses, grabbing her wrists in a tight grip.

“What are you doing?” he panted, his heart pounding so hard he was certain she would be able to hear it.

“In all my life, I’ve never...” She shook her head, her hands flexing, itching to get back to her task. “What you’re offering me... please. Let me do something for you.”

“You don’t have to,” he forced the words out. “I won’t ask that of you.”

“I know you won’t.” Her gaze was soft, and she twisted her wrists slowly in his grasp to guide his hands to her face. “That’s why I’m offering.”

He allowed his hands to be brought to her cheeks; she looked so fragile, cradled between the leather of his gloves.

Suddenly he could feel her mind, her shields coming down, inviting him in, and he breathed out shakily as he eagerly pushed in.

_Desire._ She desired him, earnestly and honestly, there was no trick, no sense of duty or obligation attached to it, and it made him gasp; his own passion bubbling to the surface, thrumming hot and strong. She could feel it, and she shivered with a little moan.

He should stop this. Aversion of intimacy was a warning shared by Jedi and Sith alike; it was a distraction, it could lead to weakness, to clouded judgement, to prioritizing a single other person beyond one’s duties.

Then she surged up, pressing her mouth against his.

_She was strong and deadly, no longer the thin slave girl, but a warrior. The two of them united in battle, the Force flowing like water between them, completely in sync, connected, their bodies moving together like they were one._

_They **were** one, her body welcoming him inside, hot, tight, and pleasure burst across his brain, their minds open and tangled in each other._

_They were unstoppable, a whirlwind of the Force, they brought..._

_Peace._

_The shroud of darkness no longer held his heart, she did. The Light, the Dark; they both flowed inside him freely. Balance._

They shared panted breaths between their mouths, his fingers tangled in her hair and her hands gripping his sleeves.

“Did you see that?” she gasped. “That- that-”

“A vision,” he rasped. “The future.”

“Future,” she breathed, wondrous and exhilarated, and his heart raced.

She pushed up again for another kiss, and he was powerless to stop her. Not a shred of him wanted to.

This time it was only a kiss, just the feeling of her lips against his, but it was so sweet he couldn't help but moan.

Her hands scrabbled at his waist again, and this time he helped her; tugging the thick material of his tabard open and shoving it roughly down his arms. She eagerly went for the edge of his armored shirt next, shoving both it and the soft t-shirt underneath up his stomach to mouth along his abs. Her hot tongue swirled against his skin, making him shudder, and he tugged his gloves off with his teeth before burying his hands in her hair.

He fell back against the chair, panting and turned on and nervous all at once. Her hair was soft under his fingers, and he was aching to touch her skin now that he was without the barrier of his gloves; he wanted to scrub away the touch of every man who had ever laid hands on her against her will.

She tugged open the fasenting of his trousers as she dragged her mouth down his belly, and he spilled out of the restrictive fabric with a wince of relief.

“Tell me what you like,” she whispered against the soft, vulnerable skin under his navel, her jaw just brushing his hardness. Kylo had to look away, look at the ceiling, shaking his head.

“Rey, I-” he stammered, humiliation creeping up the back of his neck, and she raised her head from his skin. “I don’t know.”

She let out a little rush of breath, the air fanning out over his skin, leaving chills in their wake, and he found the strength to look back down at her.

“You’ve never done this,” she said. Though her voice was filled with surprise, it was filled with excitement too, and he could feel a strange kind of ambition in her, a determination.

“No,” he barely whispered, seeing no point in lying. He would not be able to hide his inexperience, not with someone like her, and not with the way their minds were open to each other.

“Looks like I’m going to be the teacher, then.” She gave him a sweet, teasing smile before reaching up and digging her fingers into his hair, pulling him down for another kiss. He had never been so eager for a lesson in his life, and his cock throbbed in agreement.

She let him go, then ducked her head.

Kylo braced his feet more firmly on the floor as Rey nuzzled against the root of his cock with her lips, then a slow, gentle press of tongue. Slowly, so slowly, she dragged her tongue up the side of his hardness while her fingers gently caressed the other side, and he forced himself to remove his hands from her hair, gripping the arms of the chair instead to avoid hurting her.

It was soft, exploratory, and he was riveted; panting softly through parted lips and wondering how he was ever going to survive this.

He couldn’t stop the strangled sound when she reached the head, laying soft, kitten licks across it. She tongued his slit for a brief moment, and a bead of precum oozed out, only to be lapped up by her tongue.

Kylo shuddered, sensitive and straining in her hand, and she pulled back a little, her panted breath cool against the tip of his dick, sending chills up his spine.

“How does that feel?” she asked him, curling her hand loosely around his shaft and giving a slow, gentle stroke.

“Good,” he rasped. She looked at him with a pleased little smile.

“Do you want more?”

_“Yes.”_

Rey ducked her head again, taking the tip of him into her mouth.

“You-” he gasped, unable to prevent himself from pushing a hand back into her hair, though she did not seem to mind his grip. He had no idea where he was going with that word, if there was a sentence behind it or it was an exclamation all on its own; all he knew was that it didn't really matter when she sank down a little more, rubbing her tongue languidly from side to side and giving a gentle suck.

He was panting, shaking with the effort of remaining still, of just letting her show him this.

Slowly, she worked herself lower, and he couldn't stop staring at the way her lips stretched around him, the sight of him disappearing into her mouth ridiculously, mind-meltingly _hot_.

She pulled back, swiping her tongue over his tip before sliding back down again, sinking a little deeper. Over and over again, she would pull back, work him with her tongue, then push down deeper than before.

By the time he could feel himself nudging at the tightness in the back of her throat, he was so close he was aching, shivers running down his spine like an electric current.

“Rey,” he moaned in warning, and her eyes flicked up, her pupils dilated and a flush across her cheekbones. _Kriff_.

She pulled back, wrapping her hand around the spit-wet part of him her mouth had been able to reach and stroking down; spreading the wetness until her hand and her mouth could stroke smoothly together, wrapping his entire length in _hot_ and _wet_ and _tight_.

“Rey,” he warned again, desperate this time, and she responded by sinking down as far as she could and swallowing.

A shocked sound ripped from his throat as he came, mindlessly trying to pull her further down by his grip in her hair, to ride the tightness in the back of her throat until he couldn't stand it anymore. Thankfully she was cleverer than his lust-soaked brain, her grip around his shaft letting her brace the side of her hand against his pelvis, giving her leverage to push back against him, keeping him from choking her.

He was mortified at the whimpers and groans coming out of his mouth but he couldn't seem to stop, his body jerking and curling over her as she swallowed him down without hesitation. She kept swallowing, sending spasms through his pelvis that stole his breath and scrunched his eyes closed so hard white dots swam in his vision; until he couldn't give anymore if he tried and she let her mouth slide off of him with a wet sound.

She pressed a hand against his abdomen, pushing him gently to lean back in the chair, and he went, boneless as a ragdoll.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn't had his fair share of solitary orgasms throughout his teen and adult life, but _this_... This was a whole other plane of existence. He understood why the Jedi and the Sith swore against it so strongly, why they considered it too great a risk to allow.

There was a reason the Jedi and the Sith were all but extinct.

She stood, wiping her mouth, and he opened his eyes as she climbed onto his lap, looking pleased with herself. Her dress hiked up as she straddled him, and his hands settled on her thighs with hardly a second thought.

She kissed his neck, her chest pressed against his and her arms wrapping around his shoulders. Kylo wanted to worship her until his dying day.

“Good?” she whispered. All he could do was nod, still fighting to catch his breath.

Rey’s fingers tugged his collar down more, giving her more of him to kiss. It made him feel like stars were bursting to life under his skin, like his whole body was attuned to the feel of her mouth and nothing else. His fingers tightened on her thighs, suddenly aching to make her feel like this, give her this boneless, weightless feeling.

“Show me,” he whispered, trailing his hands a little higher up her legs, begging for permission to touch like he wanted to. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

“You don’t have to.” She nuzzled his pulse point, making him shiver.

“I know I don’t,” he panted as her teeth bit lightly into the tendon in his neck. “I _want_ to.”

That pleased her, he could sense it. An image flashed across his mind’s eye, and he saw himself, but from an outsider’s perspective; his face buried between her thighs and his hair in disarray, caught between her hands, guiding him to bring her over the edge. It was _her_ thought, he realized, shared with him, and it knocked the wind out of him.

_“Yes,”_ he gasped, his fingertips digging into her thighs, “Rey, please, _yes_. I want to, I want to do that.”

She gave a pleased little moan, and he could only imagine what other sounds she would make as he pleasured her. He wanted to hear every last one, memorize them, bring them from her throat every time he put his touch to her skin.

He stood, hooking his arms under her bottom to carry her, making her gasp as she tightened her grip around his shoulders to hold on. He took her to the bed and laid her down at the end of it, allowing him to kneel on the floor before her.

She sat up, reaching down his chest to grab fistfuls of his armoured shirt and pull it up. He raised his arms to let her tug it over his head, messing his hair, and she gave a little laugh mixed with a groan at the remaining undershirt.

“All these layers.” She shook her head with a sigh, then she forced the undershirt up too.

“It gives me a better chance of not being killed if I get hit by blaster fire,” he told her honestly, shaking his tousled hair out of his eyes. She looked at his face, her hands stroking down his broad chest.

“Do you get shot at very much?”

“Occasionally,” he said softly. “Though I have learned to deflect it.”

“With the Force?”

Her hands trailed down his belly, and his muscles twitched. “Yes. And my lightsaber.”

Her eyes lit up in interest.

“I'll show you, don't worry.” He gave her a little smile as her hands drew back up his chest.

“You’re gorgeous,” she murmured, her gaze falling back to his torso, and he felt his face flush.

_Gorgeous?_

She gave him a coy little smile as she brushed the back of her fingertips across his cheek. He could feel her amusement, and it made his skin burn a little hotter.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, turning his face away, embarrassment flooding his cheeks with even more pink. _Don’t laugh at me._

“I think it’s sweet,” she encouraged him, bringing her other hand up, cradling his face between her palms. “Makes me want to keep complimenting you.”

_Please don’t._

The panicked thought must have shown on his face somehow, because her smile slowly fell before she drew him closer to her, angling her head up for a kiss.

Kissing, yes, that he could get behind, and he braced his hands on the bed on either side of her hips as he pressed into it.

He shivered when her hands trailed down from his face and over his neck, his chest, then lower, skimming his belly before sliding behind him to trace the muscles of his back.

“Come ‘ere,” she murmured against his mouth, pulling him closer, and he went without question; letting her guide them backwards onto the bed until her back met the mattress and he was hovering over her, propped up on his elbows.

The angle pressed his belly between her thighs, and he couldn’t help but shiver at how warm she felt there, even through the fabric of her undergarment. She was going to let him put his _mouth_ there, was going to take pleasure from his touch, welcomed it, _wanted_ it. Had she ever wanted anyone’s touch before?

She squirmed, wrapping her legs around him and hitching her hips, drawing a moan from his throat. Then she did it again with a little whimper of want, and Kylo could feel his cock starting to reawaken.

He dragged his mouth down her neck, over her still-clothed breasts, her belly. She fumbled for the edge of the dress, hurriedly hiking the fabric up before hooking her thumbs into the edge of her thin, barely-existent underwear and trying to shove them down.

He helped her with a shuddering exhale, peeling them down and letting them fall to the floor as she spread her legs for him.

He sat back on his heels, his hands going to the insides of her thighs, and just _looked._

He wasn’t completely ignorant, he had a functioning knowledge of biology; but he considered that even if he didn’t, he would still be captivated by her.

The lips of her pussy were a pink, rosy color, already shiny with the wetness of her arousal, and he could _smell_ her; earthy and cloying in a way he didn’t know how to articulate, even to himself. He bit his bottom lip as he looked at the little bud at the top of her slit, flushed a darker pink than the rest of her flesh, then his gaze slid lower, where her opening was still hidden from his view by the folds of her flesh.

“Kylo,” she murmured his name. He looked up to find her blushing, chewing on her bottom lip and watching him with hooded eyes.

“Gorgeous,” he echoed back to her, and she hid her eyes with her forearm with a little giggle.

It pushed him into action, and he ducked his head with a little moan of want to press a kiss to her mound.

Her hands entwined into his hair with a little “Ah!” of surprise, but her hips were pushing up into his mouth, begging for his attention, which he happily gave.

He ducked his head a little further down, giving a gentle, tentative lick against her folds; she tasted like she smelled, but sharper, and he immediately decided that he liked it. He licked again, letting his tongue linger a little longer, and she gave soft sigh, her legs spreading a little further on either side of his head.

“Show me,” he whispered, rubbing his lips against her gently. “Show me what makes you feel good.”

She guided his head up a little higher with her hands, then skimmed her finger over her clit with a little moan. She stroked from bottom to top, pulling the hood back more and exposing the flushed bundle of nerves.

“There,” she breathed. “Use your tongue, write your name with it.”

Kylo’s dick throbbed and he groaned, pressing his lips to her immediately to obey. He awkwardly caught her finger between them, but he just pressed a kiss to that too. She gave a little giggle, threading her fingers back into his hair, and he closed his eyes as he pressed his mouth to her, pushing his tongue against the hot little bud.

Another “Ah!” escaped her mouth, her thighs tensing under his hands, and he followed her instructions; writing his name with the tip of his tongue like it was one of the calligraphy brushes he had been so fond of long ago.

_Kylo Ren._ It sent a thrill of excitement through him to have that name bring her pleasure; painted against her most intimate flesh with soft swipes of his tongue. He wrote it again and again, her panting and squirming filling his belly with heat. He would be ready to go again, and soon, if she would allow him. He fervently hoped that she would.

He pressed more firmly with his tongue in experimentation, was rewarded with a gasp and a writhe, her hands pulling him in tighter, harder. He moaned hedonistically against her slippery hot flesh in answer, his hands tightening on her thighs, keeping her open to him.

A hard swipe from left to right as he wrote the bottom part of the “R” again made her spasm with a soft cry, and he immediately did it again, abandoning the letters in favor of fast, rough swipes of his tongue from side to side.

Her response was like stumbling into a magic trick, her fingers digging into his scalp and her back arching, pushing her hips up into his mouth with a hungry moan. Her legs were shaking under his hands, and he couldn’t stop his curious fingers from sliding to her center, pushing a digit inside where she was hot and dripping.

The reaction was immediate, her walls clamping down on him and a hard, wanton moan in her throat. He pushed in deeper, burying it to the last knuckle to feel her pussy spasm.

_“Fuck,”_ she gasped, rocking her hips against his mouth and his finger. _“Fuck, there!_ Keep- keep-”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence, he was already devoting his complete attention to rocking his finger inside her hot channel, his tongue never stopping its rigorous back and forth.

_“More,”_ she moaned after another moment, squirming down onto his hand, so he pushed a second finger in. She clenched around him with a gasp of want, making his insides feel hot with desire.

She was close, he could feel her pleasure mounting like static electricity in the air, and he pushed himself past the discomfort in his jaw and tongue.

Feeling her come on his mouth was captivating. His pleasure was like a punch, a sudden snap down his spine, but hers was like a wave; building and building until it crested with crash that left them both moaning. He hitched his fingers inside her clenching pussy, riding each spasm with a tiny grunt of want, and he didn’t allow himself to stop the rapid flick of his tongue until she pushed him away.

He looked up her body, panting and licking his lips. His whole mouth and chin were wet with her juices, keeping his nose full of the rich scent of her; he never wanted to wipe it away. And the _look_ of her. He could see a flush down her chest through the V of her neckline, and she had thrown her forearm back across her eyes. Her lips were parted and panting, shiny and pink from biting them, and she gave a couple tiny writhes on the bed as her body spasmed with aftershocks.

It was the most stunning thing he had ever seen. His only regret was being too impatient to strip off her dress before burying his mouth between her legs.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, petting along her thighs and hips before grabbing the dress to push it up her body.

She eagerly helped him, wiggling and gripping the fabric to help him tug it up over her head, finally leaving her completely bare to him.

Her nipples were pebbled and flushed, and the temptation to put his mouth to her breasts made him give a soft moan of longing; she truly was beautiful.

Kylo bent his head down, pressing chaste kisses along her belly, working slowly upwards toward her chest to give her the chance to push him away, but she didn’t. Instead her hands found his hair again, guiding him up her body.

He kissed her breasts reverently, slowly, his hands coming up to cup them, push them up toward the attention of his mouth. She sighed and scratched her nails against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine that felt so, _so_ good.

Her pussy was pressed against his belly again, still hot, still wet, and his cock throbbed in desperate want.

“Rey,” he said her name softly, pleadingly; she squeezed him with her thighs with a little moan.

“Yes,” she whispered, and he groaned against her chest, hitching his hips against nothing at the flood of lust that coursed through him.

With a flash of determination he pulled back, standing up and hurriedly getting out of his boots before sliding his open trousers down his legs and off, watching Rey give him a hungry look.

He bent down, getting his arms under her and picking her up. She gasped, wrapping her legs and arms around him as he shuffled them up the bed on his knees.

“I could have done that,” she mumbled against his neck, pressing a kiss and a gentle nip of her teeth there before he laid her back down.

He sat back on his heels, hunched over her to press a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck and chest as his hands traced up and down her sides. She sighed warmly against the top of his head, her palms rubbing across his shoulders and down his back with an appreciative hum, making him shiver.

“Come on,” she whispered, hiking her knees up against his sides and carding a hand through his hair. “Come on, Kylo, want to feel more than just your fingers inside me.”

He was actually going to combust, there would be nothing left of him but ashes.

He slid over her with a trembling exhale, pressing a kiss to her lips as she reached a hand between them, taking him into her grip and guiding him against her. She was still so wet, still so hot, and as the tip of him nudged against her entrance she gave a soft moan into his mouth.

He let her guide him, her hand going to his hip and pulling him in, and suddenly he was _inside her._

He made a harsh sound, his body pushing forward of its own accord, but the gasp she gave him didn’t sound pained, and neither did the feel of her hands slipping around to his ass and driving him in to the hilt with a rough thrust.

He broke the kiss, hands clenched into fists and his elbows digging into the mattress, and he sought her mind with a desperate push. She had opened to him when they started this, but he had been so absorbed in her body’s reaction to him that he had let the connection fade to a low hum in the back of his brain. He felt desperate to correct that, to feel every emotion and sensation she would give him as he rocked his hips with a little moan.

She welcomed him inside her mind as readily as she had accepted him inside her body, and he was flooded with sensation.

“Kylo,” she gasped, and he could feel her in his mind too, the two of them tangling together in a surge of the Force that stole his breath. _“Move.”_

He ducked his head down to her shoulder as he followed her command, withdrawing a few inches before thrusting back in; uneven, bordering on rough, but her knees hitched higher against his sides anyway and her fingers dug into the muscles of his ass.

She helped him build a rhythm, guiding him with her hands and the rocking of her hips, and pleasure surged across their minds.

“Fuck, I’ve never-” she gasped, the rest of the sentence lost on a moan, but he heard her complete it in her head, _I've never felt anything like this._

Selfish pride bubbled in his chest, and he turned his head to kiss her neck fervently. He could feel her amusement, but it wasn't mocking.

_Go on, be proud of yourself, you deserve it._

_I will, thank you._

She gave a little gasp, and it was clear by her surprise that she had not realized he could hear her, that they could communicate this way.

It was his turn to be amused, and he chuckled lowly against her neck, _Comes in handy, doesn't it?_

She laughed, making him moan at the way it squeezed her around him deliciously. _Gotta watch what I think, then. Don't want to inflate your ego too much._

It was sweet and teasing, and made that vulnerable feeling open up in his chest again. He hurriedly pushed it down as she arched her hips up, squeezing around him in a way that made his breath catch.

She squeezed again, his hips jerking roughly in answer, and a spark of pleasure fizzled from her mind to his.

He was captivated, repeating the motion, and he realized that the jolt of pleasure she felt came from his pelvis rubbing against her clit.

_Keep doing that,_ she thought at him, one hand sliding up his back encouragingly, and he pulled back to kiss her as he obeyed.

His short, hard thrusts rocked them against the bed, and Rey bit his lip as he pushed one arm under her hips, pulling her up as he thrust down, making her gasp and writhe in his arms.

He wanted her to come again. He wanted to feel her pussy tighten around him, wanted to feel that wave crest in her mind, wanted her hands to grab at him, her body thrashing with it. He wanted to drink down her moans and cries until she couldn’t stand the pleasure anymore and she begged him for reprieve.

Another hard squeeze of her muscles made him strangle down a soft cry, pleasure snapping through him like a shock. He wasn't going to last, _fuck,_ he just couldn't.

He pulled her harder into his mind, desperate to share his pleasure with her, to use it to coax her over that precipice. She gasped as she let her mind delve deeper into his, sharing his sensations until-

Her hands gripped his ass and her legs wrapped around him like a trap, her hips undulating in a filthy grind that left him reeling as she greedily brought herself to completion against his pelvis.

Pleasure exploded through his head and reverberated down his spine, and he was powerless to stop being swept away with her.

_The desert. The sand burning her hands as she dug out the nose of an old X-wing, desperate for the parts inside-_

_The wind howling outside, the sandstorm vicious and terrifying, but nothing compared to the terrible ache of hunger in her stomach-_

_He was the first, but he would not be the last, and she shook throughout, refusing to make a sound-_

_Lonely. So crushingly lonely, and so afraid. Would anyone even notice if she perished? If the unforgiving desert swallowed her up and turned her to dust?-_

_Victory thrilled through her as the engine of her speeder coughed to life for the first time. She had built it herself, completely from scratch, using junkyards and trading anything she could afford to in order to craft it-_

_The retreating spacecraft, her voice fast on its way to being hoarse from crying, calling after it, “No! Come back! Please!”-_

_Nursing a bruised cheek, Unkar Plutt angry at her for clawing the face of a client who was trying to cut her, to make her bleed-_

_An ocean. Blues and greens like she would never see, and an island. The only dream that helped her to sleep, to forget the feeling of a man’s sweat on her skin-_

_Jakku was disappearing from view, and she was crying. They would never find her now, they would never come back-_

_She was curled up under the consol, listening to her parents talk, though she was too tired to retain what they were saying-_

_That man. Was it a man? She couldn’t see a millimeter of skin, he could be a Lafrarian for all she could tell. The black eyes of his mask met hers, and she felt herself shiver. She was captivated, she couldn’t understand it, who **was** he?-_

He was gasping, shaking, and so was she, the both of them gripping each other so tight there was sure to be bruises. _That_ was not meant to happen, he was sure.

Master Snoke had taught him how to break into minds. It was a skill he had utilized on behalf of his master for longer than he cared to think about, and to get deep memories like that, you had to _focus_. You had to be intent, you had to push the right doors and break down the right walls, even if the person wasn’t fighting you.

In the throes of the most intense orgasm of his life, there shouldn’t have been any way for him to see her life like that. Her emotions, her sensations, yes. They were easy, they were surface thoughts; he had invited her in to feel those with him, and had been rewarded with her offering hers. It had driven their pleasure to incredible heights, their ecstasy shared and compounded on each other, but _that..._

That was something _else._

“Ben.”

He gasped, jerking back to look at her face, meeting her wide, captivated eyes. His heart, already pounding with their exertion of their activity, raced even faster.

“What?” he breathed, not daring to believe what he had just heard.

“Your name,” she whispered. “Your name is Ben... Ben Solo.”

She had _seen_. It wasn’t just his mind seeing into her past, she had been exposed to his. She _knew._

“Not anymore,” he husked out. “Not for a long time.”

Her lip trembled, and her hand came up to cup his face, her expression so soft and pitying that it cut him like a blade.

“You hurt,” she murmured. “You hurt so much, all the time, your heart-”

She shook her head, her other hand coming to press between them, over his sternum, feeling his rapid heartbeat, “Ben-”

He pressed down to kiss her, to silence the pain she was spilling between them, and her mind pressed gentle and compassionate to his.

He didn’t understand. All the pain she had suffered herself, the abandonment, the mistreatment, the fear, the desperation; her mind should feel like an open wound, as his did, she should be filled with the same rage, the same bitterness.

Yet here she was, coaxing kindness against him, trying to ease his suffering, trying to instill the sense of hope she harbored inside her heart. She shared herself with him without a shred of hesitation, giving him her vulnerability and seeking to help strengthen him.

He was shaking, and her hands stroked down his back, her legs wrapped loosely around him as her mouth pulled away from the kiss to trail gently down his neck.

She didn’t speak again, but every touch of her body, her hands, her lips, it all conveyed the same thing; _I’m here now. We will never be alone again._

He wanted to believe her. Every fiber of his being wanted to, and he considered their shared vision when she had kissed him for the first time. He had no future that did not involve this girl, he felt that as surely as he felt her body under him. Whether _that_ vision of the future would hold true, however, he could not say. The Force was always in flux, always open to change, and this was no exception, no matter how vivid it had seemed.

“I'm yours,” Kylo whispered; Rey was _his_ , she was made for him, and he for her. She would never be owned again, but she would be worshiped, protected. _His._ “We were meant for this.”

One of her hands tightened on the back of his neck while the other stroked down his back, and he could feel the way his words had overwhelmed her. She had lived a lifetime of being someone’s property; she had been something to be _owned,_ to be _used._ She was taken from, never given to.

He stayed inside her until he could tell his weight was starting to cause her discomfort, and he pulled away with a trail of kisses over her chest. He was loathe to be seperated from her; the farther away from their moment of intimacy they went, the closer the time came that he would have to face the consequences of it. It was an ugly prospect.

She made a sleepy sound, watching him settle beside her, then stretched; her hands over her head and her legs straight down, long and lean, and he wanted to put his mouth to her again.

She seemed to sense his desire and gave a little smile, pushing up on her elbow to kiss him before sliding off the bed.

Her thighs were slick with her arousal and his seed, and she disappeared into the refresher to clean herself of the tacky fluids.

Next time, Kylo considered, he could use his mouth to clean her up.

He rolled onto his back with a long sigh, trying not to think. It occurred to him that he was messy too, his pelvis smeared with their fluids and his body damp with sweat.

He also felt pleasantly worn out, almost but not quite like after a good fight training; the bruises from this, however, would be much nicer to carry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Use condoms, kids! I'm running on the assumption that in this little slice of scifi universe, both Kylo and Rey have contraceptive, anti-STD implants of some kind. (Her because of what she does, [Cato's not a complete idiot] and him because I feel like it would be a standard First Order practice.)


	4. Chapter 4

He didn't realize he had been dozing until the refresher door opened once more, rousing him out of it, and she came back into the room looking relaxed and fresh.

She leaned over the bed to kiss him, wet hair brushing his face. The impulse to pull her down to lay on his chest tugged at him, but he ignored it in favor of letting the kiss end so he could take his turn in the refresher.

The rational part of his brain seemed to wake up with the hot water as he washed the sweat out of his hair, leaving him with a sense of dread.

His master would not be pleased by this. Not at all. He was meant to bring the girl to the Supreme Leader for assessment and training, not give in to his base desires. Worse than that, he still couldn't explain the phenomenon they had experienced upon climaxing together; the surge of the Force and their tumble through each other’s minds had been frighteningly out of his control.

He desperately wanted someone to consult on the matter, though he knew his only option was the very Master he felt compelled to hide this from. It was a no-win scenario that made him feel trapped.

A tingle of comfort stroked the back of his mind, and he realized with a start that it was her; that she had sensed his upset and was trying to ease him.

He closed his eyes and tried to shut her out, and was surprised to find his motivation born from a desire to spare her from his worry rather than to protect himself from exposure.

Kylo was startled, however, when he could not.

He seemed to be able to manage shielding himself from her emotions, and hopefully her from his, but he could still _feel_ her. Like a hand resting on the back of his head. Like... a muted comm call. There was no sound being exchanged, but you knew the connection was there, active, you just had to press the right button to communicate again.

He was utterly fascinated, and for a moment it drowned out his apprehension.

He quickly finished his shower, giving his hair and body a quick towel dry before stepping into the cooler main room.

She was back in her white dress, and she had pulled the blankets down on the bed to sit on the clean sheets. Her legs were criss-crossed comfortably and the second plate of food he had almost forgotten about was sitting on the bed in front of her, still covered. He noticed that the wine they had ignored earlier was sitting on the bedside table this time, open and ready to be poured.

He scooped his pants up from the floor and shuffled back into them, not bothering with any other piece of his clothes left strewn all over the room.

He sat opposite her; she wordlessly handed him a fork before turning to pour them each some wine.

“You seem more confident that I can feed myself this time.” He gave a little smirk, and she chuckled as she uncovered the plate and handed him his glass.

“You've proven yourself a capable man,” she said with a smile, and he felt a blush creep over his cheeks.

Even mostly cold, the food was still pretty good, and they ate in companionable silence. 

He was not one to drink, typically, but he acknowledged that his day was already so supremely unusual that he might as well throw in the towel and give the deep, rich red wine a go. It was fairly good, mostly sweet but with that subtle tang that reminded him of the alcohol content.

Still her presence lingered in the back of his mind. He tentatively let his guard down.

She looked up from the plate when he did, and a questioning feeling trickled across the connection.

_Is this okay?_ he thought to her, testing the ease with which they could potentially communicate. She gave a little nod in answer.

_Yes. I just thought..._

His rebuff of her comfort while he was showering came to her mind, and he reached out physically with his hand to touch her forearm as he allowed her to feel his remorse.

_I’m sorry,_ he sent, _I was startled._

She nodded again, then spoke aloud, “Can all Force users do that? The speaking through your mind thing?”

“Theoretically,” he took a swallow of wine, “but...”

He frowned, staring down into his glass as he let his hand slip from her arm and pick up his fork again. “It typically takes effort. _A lot_ of effort, the farther apart you get. Yet we seem to do it with barely any thought at all.”

“And that’s unusual?”

“Very,” he nodded. “As is the fact that I can’t seem to shut you out completely now that we’ve...”

He floundered, and she gave him a little smile.

“...connected,” he finished lamely. “Familiar minds are able to sense each other and reach across the Force to each other more readily than strangers, but the fact that our connection runs this deep so rapidly is startling.”

“You said you’d never done this before,” she said with a little tilt of her head, “could it just be normal, for people like us?”

“Perhaps,” he acknowledged with a sigh, frowning at the plate before taking another bite of food and chewing slowly as he considered. “Yet...”

The circumstances surrounding their union felt too strange. He knew other Force users, he had been surrounded by them at his uncle’s temple, and never once in all that time had he felt the gravity that had gripped him the moment he laid eyes on her. Then there was their vision, the glimpse of their entwined destiny that simultaneously frightened him and captivated him. Even if he had refused her offer of physical intimacy, there was a sense of sureness in his guts that the connection would have blossomed anyway. Delayed, maybe, but inevitable.

“You felt it too, didn't you, in the pleasure room?” he asked quietly, thinking of the moment he had glimpsed in her head, of what she had felt when she had first saw him. “A kind of pull, a connection between us?”

Rey nodded, so he continued, “I've never felt that before. I've known plenty of Force users before now, and I've never felt anything like that. And that vision...” He shook his head. “No, there is nothing typical about this. I'm sure of it.”

She sucked on her fork contemplatively, looking at the half-finished plate between them. A thought occurred to him.

“Force bonds...” He frowned, trying to remember. “A Jedi legend, of destined souls forming a bond in the Force, people who were meant to be connected.”

Her eyes flicked up to look into his as she slid the fork out of her mouth, the weight of that statement settling over them.

“You think that’s what happened with us?”

“It’s certainly a possibility.”

He was... eerily calm. He shouldn't be, there was some part of him that was distinctly aware of that. But looking at her, the feel of her mind in the back of his head, her presence in the Force humming warmly around them...

He couldn’t feel anything but serene.

Rey took a drink of wine from her glass, looking into the red liquid for a moment, her expression unreadable.

Kylo averted his eyes back to the plate, trying to parse what she felt about it, but her mind was just thoughtful, contemplative. He had stabbed a forkful of the purple vegetable, the utensil about halfway to his mouth, when she spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he felt her sudden guilt like a weight in his heart.

“What? Why?” he immediately asked, utensil halted in mid-air in surprise.

“That you might be trapped in this.” She motioned her hand between them, her eyes downcast. “Neither of us asked for this connection, I know, but you’re-”

She gestured to him with a broad sweep, and he caught a glimpse of what she had seen of his past in her mind; his parents, Luke, Vader. She knew his bloodline, the legacy from which he had arose, and from which he had been outcast, only to be taken in by Snoke.

“-and I’m _nobody._ Nobody from nowhere, a pleasure slave, to have someone like you bound to someone like me-”

Kylo tossed his fork back down onto the plate with a clatter, and he hastily shoved his wine glass onto the bedside table before surging across the distance between them. He caught her mouth in a kiss, one hand cupping the side of her face and the other braced against the mattress beside her thigh. She accepted it, despite her surprise at his action, and returned the kiss sweetly; but he could still feel her uncertainty and shame.

“You’re right,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re nobody from nowhere. You come from nothing, you’re nothing.”

Her shame intensified, and he could sense the tears pricking her eyes as if it were his own.

“But not to me.”

He said it with the most resolution he could, and made sure she felt the sincerity of it across their connection. “I don’t give a flying fuck where you come from, or your status. You are stronger than you know, and I am going to make sure that I’m around to see you learn that.”

She gave a little shuddering breath, her guilt shifting to surprise, and he slowly pulled away.

“Okay?” he prompted, and a tender, sweet feeling passed over her.

“Okay,” she acknowledged with a little nod.

He picked up his fork again with an answering nod, and they ate in silence for a few moments.

There was something else on her mind. He could sense it, and he was tempted to prod a little deeper into her thoughts to flush it out.

“Can I ask you something?” she finally asked softly, gathering the courage on her own. He nodded. “Would you...”

She bit her lip, and apprehension creeped across their connection. He gave her a nudge of encouragement. “Would you allow me to call you Ben?”

It was not a question he had been expecting, and it threw him off balance.

“It’s just-” she said in a rush. “It’s just that- it feels _better_. It feels like _you_. I’m sure that doesn’t make any sense but I don’t know how else to explain it. Now that I know it, that I understand who you are, continuing to call you Kylo feels... feels wrong, feels like a stranger’s name.”

Her face flushed, and he could feel the embarrassment and nervousness fluttering around her head. “You can say no. Kriff, forget it, forget I even asked.”

“Rey...” he said her name with exasperation, and she glanced up apprehensively. “My name...”

He looked away, trying to articulate his thoughts. Her question had left him feeling suddenly defenseless, and it chilled him to wonder precisely what she had seen inside his head. He suddenly found himself desperate to know.

“Ben Solo...” the name felt strange in his mouth, almost foreign to him, and he shook his head. “He was weak and foolish. I had to destroy him, I had to cut him away or I was never going to survive.”

He looked to her again, and found her eyes welling with tears. His chest ached, and he suddenly realized that the pain was not just his own, but hers too. “I think you know what I mean.”

She gave a solemn nod. The facade she put on out there in the pleasure room, the facade that she wore in the company of the vile men she was forced to bed; it was just as much a mask for her as Kylo Ren was for him. It was survival.

“I understand,” she whispered.

He wasn’t hungry anymore, and he set his fork down on the edge of the plate before rubbing a hand wearily over his eyes.

“You said you understand who I am,” he murmured. “What exactly did you see?”

She looked down, fiddling with the hem of her dress and trying to recall what she had glimpsed inside his head.

“Pieces of your childhood,” she closed her eyes, frowning as she thought. “Your parents. Then a temple, training... your master... he tried to kill you.”

The old wound stung and ached, and he clenched his jaw.

“Snoke,” he could feel her fear and dread at the memory of his master. “He pulled you to him, trained you in the Dark Side.”

“Yes,” he murmured. She opened her eyes, and for the first time, he could feel genuine fear in her, felt her reactively pulling back from him.

“Everyone has always feared me,” he said softly, resigned. There was no point in pretending he was anything other than what he was, not with her. “They saw me as a monster. Too angry, too strong. So I let myself be a monster.”

He looked to the desk, where his helmet still rested, its black, emotionless eyes watching him.

_“You imagined a monster,”_ he had said to her earlier. She had been right.

Rey’s hand touched his cheek, soft and gentle, and he allowed her to guide his gaze back to her.

There were tears sliding down her cheeks, and it twisted something in his chest; the tears were for him. He didn't know the last time someone had cried on his behalf. He wasn't sure if anyone ever had.

“No,” she whispered. “Not a monster. That-”

She nodded to the mask, “ _That_ is the monster. But you?”

She shook her head, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “No. Not a monster. I’ve met monsters. Men who love the weapons they sell, love how much money they can make from death. Who look at people like me like we’re no more valuable than a chair.”

She bit her lip, and more tears fell. “That’s not you. I felt it, I _saw_ it. You take no pleasure from hurting people. You hurt too much yourself.”

He felt split open, cracked right down the center with his soul exposed and raw.

Rey picked up the half finished plate and put it on the bedside table, getting everything safely out of the way so she could crawl into his lap.

Her knees bracketed his hips and her arms wound around his neck; he was powerless to stop himself from burying his head down onto her shoulder and holding her tight.

_The slave girl and the runaway,_ she thought despondently. _The Force sure knows how to pick them._

He gave a derisive snort, and she kissed the side of his head.

_What? It’s not a lie._

She was right, which may have been the worst part. He couldn’t find a thing to say in argument.

He lifted his head, and she stroked her fingers along his jaw gently.

“Can I ask you something?” he found himself saying, desperate to pull them away from the depressing topic at hand, and she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“Have you ever...” He fumbled, and _Force_ , he was a grown man, it should not be this awkward! “Has there ever been anyone you wanted to do... that... with?”

She gave a watery laugh, reaching up to wipe her tears away, looking at him gently.

“No,” she said, “you are the first to receive that honor.”

A selfish, possessive feeling gripped his heart, and she pressed a kiss to his mouth sweetly. “Come to think of it, you're only the second man I've ever met to refuse me.”

That piqued his interest.

“And the first?”

“Back on Jakku. Unkar was trying to do business with him, thought offering me to him for the night would make him more agreeable to Unkar’s offer. But when I knocked on the door, much like you, he invited me in only to talk.”

Rey’s hands trailed over his shoulders, her thumbs dipping into the little trenches above his clavicles. “He offered to steal me away too, just like you.”

That surprised him, and he searched her face questioningly. “Why didn't you?”

Sadness overcame her, and he suddenly remembered flashes of memory; of her shouting after a retreating ship, of her tears as she was taken from Jakku by Cato.

“Your parents,” he murmured, and she nodded sadly.

“Always told myself they’d come back for me.”

“So you never tried to leave Jakku. You wanted to make sure they would be able to find you again.”

She nodded a second time, and her hands slipped down onto his chest gently. She rubbed her thumb over his sternum, and he felt a pang of empathy for her. His situation may have been different, but he still understood her longing to belong. To feel safe, wanted.

They had both been full of false hopes. What he couldn’t understand was her willingness to overlook their abandonment.

“They threw you away,” he murmured, and she looked at him sharply, “they sold you to a life of suffering, of _slavery_. Why would you want them to come back?”

“They didn’t,” she hissed, suddenly angry; it was like needles stinging in skin. “They _didn’t._ ”

“They did,” he insisted with a frown. “You know that they did, you remember it.”

She began to pull away, to wiggle out of his lap, but he hooked his arms determinately across her back, pulling her tight to him.

“Let me go,” she whispered harshly, her hands braced on his shoulders, trying to keep him at a distance, to get away.

“Let the past die,” he said sharply, and she glared at him, tears welling in her eyes again. “Kill it, if you have to, or it will kill you. Your parents threw you away like garbage, but you are so much more than they ever were. So prove it. Let them go.”

She was shaking with emotion; anger and pain and utter desperation. He was unraveling her, and she did not like it.

_Better me than him,_ he made sure to keep the thought to himself, no matter how true it was. Kylo was going far more gently than Supreme Leader Snoke would when presented with the opportunity to bring her weaknesses to light. It was a bitter process, but it would happen regardless. Either here, with him, or at Master Snoke’s feet. He prefered the former rather than the latter.

“Please let me go,” she whispered harshly, the anger clear on her face and pulsing across their connection, and he very slowly released the tension in his arms so she wouldn’t tumble backwards.

“Rey,” he said her name softly, and for a brief moment she let him reach up to brush a tear from her cheek, “I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m trying to help you.”

She didn’t answer, but she pulled away, climbing off his lap then leaving the bed. She retreated to the balcony without another word.

Kylo flopped backwards on the mattress with a heavy sigh.


	5. Chapter 5

He could feel her hostility in the back of his head like an angry buzz. She was trying, and failing, to push the effect of his words away, to double her resolve that he was wrong. He admired her determination, but was doing herself no favors.

He sat back up, looking toward the balcony with another sigh. The sun had gone down some time ago, and the glass doors did nothing but reflect the light of the room back to him. Discontent to just sit there, he got up from the bed and searched for his shirts on the floor to slide them back on.

The heavy weight of the armored shirt actually felt reassuring in light of the vulnerable way he had spent the last couple of hours, and he returned to the console at the desk, pulling up the contract.

One more tedious read through and he sent it along to the First Order. He saw no reason the Supreme Leader would object to his proposed changes, but he fulfilled his duty to report it regardless.

He glanced to the balcony again.

She was still upset, but her anger had faded to lean more on the side of misery, and he stood, making his way to the balcony door.

She was curled up in one of the chairs in the little space, her arms wrapped around her knees, and he understood now that some of the misery he was feeling from her was due to the way she was shaking with cold. He ducked back inside for a moment to fetch his cloak.

She gave an indignant squawk when he leaned down to scoop her up, shuffling with her in his arms to sit on the chair instead, settling her onto his lap. Wordlessly, he wrapped his cloak around her and pulled her to lean against his chest.

He was half expecting her to fight the contact, but instead she just huffed and dug her cold toes into his thigh. The cloak shifted a little as she crossed her arms again in irritation and cold, her whole body trembling with chills.

“You’re going to catch your death out here,” he murmured, rubbing his hands over her arms and legs through the fabric of the cloak, and she just shrugged. “You survived years in a desert wasteland only to be completely fine with dying from cold exposure on a balcony?”

“You seem determined to warm me up, so I doubt that,” she replied listlessly, and he sighed.

“You can’t learn to use the Force if you’re dead, you know.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Her question made him freeze, his mind whirling at her words.

“What?” he breathed, gripping her shin through the cloak, and she pulled back enough to look at his face.

“Would you still free me, if I didn’t want to join you?” she asked softly. “If I wanted to go back to Jakku, try to find my parents? Or is becoming your apprentice a condition of my freedom?”

He looked at her for a long moment, panic seizing his heart.

“And if you don’t find them?” he asked roughly. “What, you’re just going to wait the rest of your life on that dust ball for people who never cared about you?”

She looked away, her mouth twisting in hurt, and his hand on her shin tightened a little more.

“And what of me?” he forced through a tight throat, and her gaze moved back to him, uncertain and questioning. “What of this connection?”

He pushed against her mind and she shuddered, pressing her closed fist against his chest as she tried to shield herself. She succeeded in cutting off her emotions from him, but she was still there, still a presence in the back of his mind like a weight. He knew she felt the same sensation, there was no point in denying it.

“What if this connection fades?” she countered. “You admitted that you don’t know enough about it to even be completely sure that this is unusual for people like us. What if it’s just- just a _fuck_ and this all disappears by tomorrow?”

“And _what of me?_ ” he asked again, his temper flaring. “I consider that _fuck_ some form of personal payment and wave you goodbye?”

She looked away, and her hand on his chest pressed a little harder.

“I see,” he said coldly. So that’s how it was, was it? Everything they had shared earlier had been a lie, then? Their understanding, their compassion, their unity in their suffering, their comfort in feeling like for the first time, they _weren't alone._ Bantha-shit, apparently, all of it. She was very keen for him to buy her her freedom, and wanted nothing to do with him after.

“No,” she said sharply, glaring at him testily, “you obviously do not.”

“Then tell me,” he challenged angrily, “because I don’t understand why living out your life in a desert wasteland is preferable to learning how to wield the most powerful energy in the galaxy with me.”

“It’s not,” she growled, her hand shoving at his chest, “but I’m not some prize for you to present to your master, some weapon you can clip to your belt.”

The cold of the balcony was nothing compared to the cold that wrapped around his heart at her words.

“That’s what you think, is it?” he whispered. “That that’s all I see happening here, an opportunity to acquire a weapon that will make me look favorable to the Supreme Leader?”

“My freedom would not hinge on me agreeing to come with you if it were not.”

“I never said it did,” he snapped.

The anger slipped from her face, replaced by a distrustful kind of shock. “...What?”

“I never said it did,” he repeated, giving her a steely glare.

“But... when I asked-”

“I asked you why you would want to give up my offer in exchange for your fruitless hunt. A question you have yet to give me an honest answer to,” he reminded her, not managing to keep the condescension out of his voice, “but I did not say anything about it being a condition of your freedom.”

She was staring at him, and Kylo’s heart was pounding.

His words would put him in grave trouble, if ever discovered by his master. First Order resources were not to be wasted frivolously, and using them to help a girl that was going to flee and never look back was more than just frivolous, it was _sentimental._ A weakness of his that he could not quite shake, and one that his Master considered a monumental failure in his training.

Supreme Leader Snoke did not take failures well.

“You would free me,” she said softly, “and then just... let me go?”

“I would prefer not to,” he said honestly.

“But you would,” she pressed, and he clenched his jaw.

“See for yourself,” he murmured, tugging against her mind, asking her to open up again and allow the connection between them to flow freely.

She chewed her lip, then let her shield down.

“I will not demand that you stay with me,” he said softly, his heart in his throat, “but I am asking you to. Please.”

Tears came to her eyes, and she stared at him for another long moment. A tremble of her lip, then she looked away, her hand pushing up from under the cover of his cloak to hurriedly wipe at the tears that has slipped down her face. She took a deep breath.

“It really is freezing out here,” she eventually murmured. “Can we go back inside?”

He clenched his jaw, but hooked his arms under her and stood. She gasped, hurriedly gripping his shirt, and looked at him with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to-”

“Obviously I don’t have to, I want to,” he cut in, opening the door with the Force and carrying her through it.

She looked at the door with wide eyes, and he shut it behind them before depositing her gently on the bed.

He didn’t realize how cold his bare feet had gotten until he was back in the temperature control of the room, and he flexed his numb toes as he went about the task of collecting his discarded clothes that were still scattered across the floor. He put them in a neat pile on the desk beside his mask, then collected their plates and glasses from their meals, returning them to the food cart and pushing it out into the hallway for collection.

“Can you show me how to do that?” she asked him softly, and he turned back to look at her.

She was still wrapped in his cloak, the large swath of material making her look tiny, and she was chewing her lip nervously.

“Do what?” he asked, grabbing his boots last and tossing them on the floor beside the desk with a loud thump.

“You opened the door with the Force,” she said, “I could feel you do it. Would you show me?”

He looked at her for a moment, considering. She had not given him an answer; he had offered her his knowledge and a place by his side, but she had not yet actually accepted.

He thought to the future they had glimpsed. They would stand together someday, he felt sure of it, but what if she refused him for years? What if their unity was brief, instead of a long, committed partnership?

The thought was a wretched one. Perhaps giving her a taste of the potential she could rise to, of the power she could wield, would make her more eager to follow him.

He moved to the bed and kneed his way onto the mattress, situating himself behind her. He sat, stretching his legs out on either side of her and she looked back to him with curiosity.

“Face forward,” he instructed, “legs crossed, back straight.”

She followed his orders, resettling his cloak around her shoulders, and he hated how much her choosing to keep it around herself affected him. He demanded himself to focus.

He wrapped his arm around her, spreading his hand across her abdomen. “Close your eyes, breathe deep.”

Her belly rose and fell as she followed his directions. “Again.”

She did it several more times, and he gave a little nod. “Reach out.”

A glimmer of confusion, and she reached out her hand in front of her, making him chuckle.

“No sweetheart,” he couldn’t help but tease, reaching up and bringing her arm down, his palm against the back of her hand and their fingers entwining. “There’s power inside you, I know you can sense it. Use it. Reach out.”

She curled her fingers against his, their joined hands settling on her knee, and he nudged their connection deeper, more open. She readily responded in kind, and her deep curiosity pleased him. He pressed his head against hers, his mouth close to her ear.

“Like this,” he whispered, and she gave a little gasp as he opened himself to the Force, letting it coil inside him, thrumming, alive, strong. “Look.”

She opened her eyes, and he bent the Force to his will. The desk chair rose off the floor easily, and she watched it with bated breath. He could feel her wonder and her excitement, the thrill of possibility and he pressed a little smile against her hair. The chair slid back down to the floor fluidly.

“Try,” he encouraged. “Reach out.”

She closed her eyes again, and the Force rushed in. He had never felt anything like her. It was like circling a supernova, and it caught Kylo’s breath, threatened to take him under with her. He was very tempted to let it.

_What do you feel?_

He breathed in time with her, his hand still on her abdomen and her hand still entwined in his. She leaned back against him, lost in it.

_Everything,_ she answered. _It’s... I don’t have words._

_Tell it what to do,_ he coaxed. _Move the chair._

The Forced flowed through her like water, pouring into the room in a flood, and when she pushed, it wasn’t just the chair that floated, it was _everything._

Kylo couldn’t help but smile, watching everything hover, and he let his own power slip around hers, around all the delicately floating objects. He sent a few into rotation, watching them spin in place.

He felt her finally open her eyes, and she gasped. The power broke, and he caught all the suddenly falling objects with a little laugh before letting them all gently set back down.

“I... I was doing that?” she stammered, and he squeezed her hand gently.

“Yes,” he replied softly, and she turned in his arms, looking at him over her shoulder with wide eyes.

“Are you lying? Was it really you?”

“You know that I’m not.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I told you, Rey, you have incredible power. You just need time to hone it.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, and Kylo swallowed.

“And you’ll teach me?”

His heart fluttered, and he dared allow himself to hope. “Everything.”

A moment of silence, her eyes looking softly into his, then she reached up, sliding her fingers into the hair on the back of his head and pulling him down to her mouth. A breathless moan against her lips, and Kylo tried, and failed, to keep desire from rising in him. He wanted nothing more than to feel her around him again, feel her pleasure crest inside his mind and around his body.

Then she guided their joined hands through the opening of Kylo’s cloak and coaxed his fingers between her thighs.

They both moaned softly at the first brush of his fingers against her clit, and Rey let go of his hand slowly, leaving him to explore her hot flesh on his own. He gladly complied, rubbing soft circles around her clit for a moment, gentle and teasing, before dipping down to part her folds.

She gave a little sigh against his mouth as just the tip of his finger pressed inside her, and want thrummed hot and demanding through his blood. She wasn’t wet, not yet, but he knew he could get her there and the thought curled around the primitive part of his brain like a vine.

His mouth slid away from hers and down the side of her jaw, his finger circling her clit again before smoothing over it with a gentle touch, making her shiver and gasp.

_More,_ she encouraged, and he was all too eager to provide.

He thought about when he had put his mouth to her, the movement of his tongue, the pressure against her clit, and he brushed the pad of his finger against her the same way.

She moaned, arching and leaning back against him, baring her throat, and he put his mouth to the side of it with a hungry growl.

He wanted to mark her, he wanted to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of her neck, replace Cato’s stupid golden collar with the imprint of his bite. He wanted every greedy, pitiful heart in this grotesque palace to know that she was no longer a toy to be passed around, she was _his._ She would never have to suffer a touch she did not want ever again.

The thought made his cock throb, still caught in the confines of his trousers, and he couldn’t help but rub against the small of her back, seeking any kind of relief from the need she stirred in him.

A flare of heat flashed across their connection and straight down his spine when she felt him, his length grinding against her tailbone. She moaned as she pressed back against it, her hands going to his thighs. She was aching to feel him inside her again, and just knowing her desire, feeling it pour over from her mind to his almost made him dizzy with lust.

“Rey,” he breathed her name, his fingers working against her in hard circles that made her shake and whine. “Please...”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for, he just needed _more_. She let out a soft cry in answer, her thighs quivering on either side of his hand as her pleasure mounted higher and higher.

_“Fuck,”_ she gasped with a writhe, grabbing his other hand where it was still wrapped around her waist and guiding it down between her legs.

_Inside me._

The demand was like a whip crack of heat across his skull, and he pushed two fingers inside her with a harsh groan.

_Fuck,_ she was so wet, her arousal sliding down the back of his hand; with barely three thrusts of his fingers inside her and his pressure on her clit she was coming.

He had to bite his lip, he needed the pain to ground himself as her pleasure washed through his mind in a wave, her body tensing and shaking with a sharp gasp. He was in danger of making a fool of himself, his cock throbbing viciously in his trousers as her climax rocked her hips, and he couldn’t help but wish the feeling of her clenching pussy was wrapped around his dick instead of his fingers.

She went limp for a moment, her hands frantically pulling his touch away from her sensitive clit, and he kissed feverishly at her neck, trying with all his willpower to regain control of himself.

Then she was twisting in his arms, his cloak finally falling away from her shoulders, to push on his chest, forcing him onto his back.

He went unquestioningly, panting and desperate and watching her with lust-heavy eyes as she crawled up his body to straddle his hips. They frantically worked together to unfasten his trousers and push them out of the way enough to free him, and Kylo groaned harshly with relief when she pulled his hot, straining length into her hand to guide him inside her.

_“Holy shit,”_ he gasped, his hands snapping to her hips as she sank down on a breathy moan, and _kriff_ she was so gorgeous; a flush down her neck and chest from her orgasm, her thighs shaking on either side of his hips, and her eyes pleasure-glazed and warm.

She pulled up and sank back down with a breathy sound, and he couldn’t stop the way his hips bucked up into it, his eyes fluttering closed as his head pushed back against the mattress.

It felt like a cheat, pushing his pleasure into her as her hips rose and fell, her hands braced against his chest; but the way it made her whimper, the way it made her body clench around him and grind down onto his cock alleviated him of any guilt. He would never apologize for his desire to let her feel the ecstasy she was creating in him.

“Kriff, I can’t believe I’m going to come again,” she groaned, her hips more frantic now, her pussy clenching tighter and Kylo was barely hanging on by a thread.

“Oh fuck, _please,_ ” he begged breathlessly, her words punching lust through his guts like a fist, and suddenly it was just overwhelmingly _so much._

Her body, her mind, her _scent_ ; it was all he could see, all he could feel and touch and smell. He was completely helpless against the inevitability of his end.

She gasped and moaned, grinding down with frantic little thrusts as his pleasure pushed her over the edge with him.

_Ben,_ his name, echoing in their heads as he was thrown back into her mind.

_Pleasure, hope, pain, loneliness, need, fear, doubt, connection, attraction, possession, trust, protection-_

No images, no memories, just _feelings_ ; complicated and tumultuous and pouring into him in a rush that took his breath.

_“Rey,”_ he gasped her name, pulling her down onto his chest, and she gave a thready, breathless whimper.

Her mouth was against his heart, her breath hot through the fabric of his shirt and her hands against his ribs, bracing her as she kept rocking her hips, her pussy spasming and clenching around him as she rode the last waves of pleasure rolling through their bodies. Every tightening of her heat around him made him gasp, his hips jerking up into it greedily, and it just fed into a feedback loop of sensation that kept them both panting.

With an overwhelmed cry she finally pulled away, letting his length slide from inside her and curling over his chest, her body trembling as hard as his was.

“That- that was-” she stammered in a breathless whisper, and he slid one hand down to her thigh as the other tightened around her waist.

_More intense than last time,_ he finished her thought, and she nodded minutely.

He suddenly felt very, undeniably out of his depth, yet all he wanted was _more._ He wanted to do this over and over, he wanted to learn every facet of this growing connection between them, he wanted to test its limits, he wanted to see _everything_ her mind was willing to gift him.

_Yes._

Her assent was soft but eager, filled with the same drive in his soul for _more_ , and Kylo felt exhilarated in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

_Yes yes yes yes..._

It circled around his head like a song, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, pressing his mouth to the top of her head in an uncoordinated kiss. She tilted her head up, a little smile on her lips, before pressing up to kiss him properly.

They were a mess, he realized. Being in too much of a hurry to take off their clothes meant that his shirts were drenched in sweat, and the tacky, pearlescent mix of their fluids between her legs was getting all over his lower belly.

_I need another shower,_ he thought at her, his mouth otherwise occupied with her lips, _Join me?_

She did, and he spent so much time licking and kissing the water from her skin that by the time she insisted they get out, their hands and feet were wrinkled to an almost comical degree.

Then they were sliding into bed together, feeling fresh and clean and aching in a pleasant, worn out way. Kylo marveled at how easy it felt to fit her in his arms.

_Made for this._ The thought circled in his head again, and their bond sang with agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's freaking fan art for this chapter now guys, holy crap! [nancylovesreylo](https://nancylovesreylo.tumblr.com/post/179790285854/i-commissioned-this-artwork-from-mrsmancuspia-for) was totally awesome to not only pick this fic as a Reylo Fanfic Book Club Fic of the Week, but she commissioned this lovely piece from the talented [mrsmancuspia!](https://tmblr.co/m1sR0vYTt9_PgCxVo8EHqig) Amazing. ♥


	6. Chapter 6

The next thing he was aware of was the shrill beep of his communicator.

“Fuck,” he grunted, half asleep, and he called the comm to his hand as he carefully extracted himself from Rey’s embrace. She stirred anyway, and he could feel her gaze even in the dark room.

“I'll be right back,” he assured her in a soft whisper, before retreating to the refresher with the comm.

“Lights at five percent,” he directed the refresher lights, and blinked rapidly even in the low setting. This call would most certainly be audio only.

“Ren,” he answered gruffly.

“The Supreme Leader wants an update.” Hux’s irritated tone felt entirely too loud in the echoey little room.

“I sent the Supreme Leader a copy of the contract and my proposed changes,” Kylo answered, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Until I talk to Cato in a few hours that's all I have.”

“Oh I daresay that's not _all._ ” Hux’s voice was oily, and Kylo could perfectly picture the sneer on his stupid face. “From what I understand, you’ve taken a shine to one of Cato’s pleasure girls.”

Kylo’s blood boiled, and he clenched his jaw with a snarl. “I've not _taken a shine_ to anyone. I've found a Force user, and a powerful one at that. So you can assure the Supreme Leader that I will negotiate her contract accordingly.”

“I'm sure you will.” He could hear the smirk in Hux’s smarmy voice, and Kylo’s desire to kill him grew.

“Ren out,” Kylo snapped, ending the communication before Hux could get any further snide comments in.

It grated on him that his master had informed Hux of Rey. He understood _why_ , there was to be added expenses to their negotiations that he needed to be aware of, but he had come to know General Hux; anything he perceived as ammunition was very greedily taken, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. Kylo would _not_ allow Hux to use Rey in this way.

He used the toilet and washed his hands while he was in the refresher, looking irritatedly in the mirror. There was a display of the time embedded in it, both local and galactic standard, and he stared at it in surprise when he realized it was mid-morning.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in, nor could he remember the last time he had more than a few hours of uninterrupted, peaceful sleep. That he did so now, in a strange bed on a foreign planet, _and_ sharing it with a partner for the first time in his life, made him balk.

A hesitant, questioning feeling curled around the base of his skull, and he splashed water on his face and dried it before returning to the main room, and the source of the feeling.

Rey was still laying in bed, but she had instructed the computer to put the windows at half opacity, giving everything a comfortable glow of the morning sun.

Her curiosity was like a question mark in his brain, and he sighed as he slid back into bed with her.

“Our general,” he informed her as he wrapped the blanket low on his waist. “Taking it upon himself to check up on my progress with Cato’s contract.”

He didn't try to hide his irritation from her as he settled onto his back, running his fingers through his sleep-messy hair.

“You don’t like him,” she said with amusement, shuffling a little closer and settling her hand on his chest. He chortled.

“What gave it away?” he replied dryly.

She snickered. “He doesn’t outrank you or something, does he?”

“I'm technically outside the military rank system in place within the First Order, but we both answer to the Supreme Leader directly and have the same level of authority.”

“So you're equals?”

“When it comes to the use of troops and supplies, I suppose so.” The statement left a sour taste in his mouth. “Though I believe my command of the Force and my tutelage under Master Snoke leaves me at a personal advantage over him.”

She hummed noncommittally in answer, tracing a little swirl on his pec with her fingertip.

There was creeping nervousness rising in her, he could feel it, and he placed his hand over hers on his chest, stilling the motion of her finger and stroking his thumb against her knuckles.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, tilting his head to look at her. She moved a little closer in answer, pressing her lips to his shoulder.

“What if Cato refuses to sell me?” she whispered, looking at his chin instead of his eyes, and he tightened his grip around her hand in reassurance for a moment.

“Why would he?”

“Pride,” she murmured, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “He won me, remember? He boasted to you about it.”

“Pride can be bought,” he assured her. “And my pocket is rather deep.”

Her eyes fell back to his mouth, and she let out a sigh that tickled across the bare skin of his shoulder.

“I hope so.”

She was not swayed by his confidence, and he squeezed her hand again.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised softly. “One way or another, Cato will hand over your contract, and you’ll never be anyone’s property again.”

Something vulnerable and emotional bubbled up in her, but before things could go any further there was a knock at the door.

They shared a look, and a droid voice came through the room’s comm system. “Sir, Mr. Cato can see you in an hour. Is that acceptable?”

Rey’s nervousness was like a bird flying around his chest cavity, and he let go of her hand to stroke her hair soothingly.

“That is acceptable,” he replied, and the droid thanked him before the comm switched off.

Rey took a shaky breath, her hand curling into a fist on his chest, and he stroked her hair again gently.

“I just want to say,” she said softly, “that if you're wrong, if Cato doesn't allow you to take me with you... I want to thank you, for... for everything. For what you've showed me, and how kind you've been.”

Kylo’s heart twisted in his chest, and he shuffled onto his side to pull her against him tightly, his lips against her forehead.

“I'm not leaving without you,” he promised. “Everything is going to be okay.”

She buried her head against his chest, her arms around him just as tight. He stroked her hair again, trying to ease her apprehension.

“Right,” she said quietly after a few moments, pulling slowly away and pressing a brief kiss to his mouth. “Let’s go.”

They were back in their clothes, and Kylo was sliding his gloves on when the door comm beeped again.

“Cato will see you now, sir,” came the voice of their escort, and Rey and Kylo looked at each other.

“One moment,” he said to the comm, and it crackled off, waiting.

He stepped closer to her, and she pushed up on her toes as he leaned down, the two of them meeting for a final kiss before he donned his helmet.

 _I'm yours,_ he sent. _Cato won’t stand in our way._

She ran her fingers through his hair, and he squeezed his arms around her waist before they were forced to let go.

He pulled the helmet onto his head as they moved to the door.

Their escort did not look surprised to see Rey; he merely glanced her way before indicating down the hall. “Cato expects you back in the pleasure room, girl.”

“She won’t be returning to the pleasure room,” Kylo interjected, “she will be accompanying me.”

“She is expected by other clients, sir,” the escort began to protest, and Kylo took a menacing step forward.

“I don’t care,” he growled, the metallic edge of his voice from the vocal modulator cutting and harsh, “she remains with me.”

The man’s eyes flicked between them before he gave a curt nod.

“This way.”

Kylo looked to Rey, her nervousness skittering across his mind; he saw that she was touching her neck, tracing the place where her gold collar had resided. He reached up to take her hand.

She looked at him, swallowing anxiously. He gently squeezed his fingers around hers before indicating with his other hand for her to go through the door before him. She took a deep breath, and he released her hand as she stepped through the doorway, relocating his palm to the small of her back.

They passed through the pleasure room, Kylo’s hand never leaving her; both of them keeping their eyes fixed on the back of their escort until they were lead into a private room down the opposite hall.

“Good afternoon, Master Ren.” Cato’s smarmy voice from the day before was gone, and his eyes were hard. Kylo suspected it had something to do with his aggressive addendums to the proposed contract. 

Beneath his mask, Kylo basked in the luxury of being able to smirk at the abrupt about-face in Cato’s attitude. The businessman was unused to being without the upper hand, it seemed.

“Shall we?” Kylo said, skipping the pleasantries. Cato’s eyes drifted to Rey, who was standing silently by Kylo’s side, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes focused on the floor.

“I see you found my pleasure girl to your liking after all,” Cato commented. Kylo could feel Rey’s discomfort at being the focus of the conversation. “But I think it’s high time she returned to the main room for others to enjoy. We’re very much about sharing here, Ren.”

“No,” Kylo said forcefully, “she is to remain while we discuss the little matter of her price.”

Cato’s face betrayed his surprise and disapproval; he looked to Rey again with a glare. “I see. Look at me, girl.”

Rey obediently raised her head, and Cato’s face changed to an expression of anger and shock.

“Where is your collar?”

Kylo could feel Rey’s fear, so he interjected on her behalf, “I removed it.”

Cato’s voice and eyes were icy. “Master Ren. You may be our guest, but I daresay even you should know that tampering with someone else’s property is poor manners.”

“The collar is undamaged,” Kylo replied coolly. “It is on the desk in my room, completely functional.”

Cato’s mouth twisted in a sour expression, and he looked between the two of them again.

“Shall we?” Kylo repeated, indicating the table in the room, and Cato clenched his jaw as he moved to sit down.

 _He’s really pissed,_ Rey sent as Kylo moved forward to take the seat opposite Cato. _I should have put the collar back on, at least. I’m not yours yet, Cato still has the right to collar me._

 _He’s hungry for our business,_ Kylo reassured her, _so he’ll endure._

There were only two chairs, and Kylo considered demanding another one for Rey, but she stood behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder. _No. I’m too nervous to sit._

He accepted her request, and they got down to business. It was long, tedious, and boring, while simultaneously being incredibly frustrating and rage inducing; Kylo felt the beginning of a headache forming by the time they had bickered, bartered, and threatened their way to the end of the contract.

Through it all, Rey stood silently behind him, her hand a comforting weight on his shoulder. Despite her nervousness, her mind was calmer than his, helping him to reign in his temper at Cato’s outlandish demands.

They finalized the contract, which left just one thing to be done before they could leave this pit of depravity.

“Now, on the matter of Rey-”

“No,” Cato cut in.

Rey tensed over Kylo’s shoulder.

Kylo’s mouth pressed into a thin line before he opened it to speak. “No?”

“No, she is not for sale,” Cato said flatly, leaning back in his chair as he looked at them across the table.

“Not even for ten thousand credits?” Kylo tried to sound aloof, and he could feel Rey balk at the high price he had offered. A drop in the bucket for the First Order, and he hoped it would appeal enough to Cato to tempt him.

“Not even for that shiny, pretty ship of yours.”

The haughty look was back in Cato’s face, and Rey’s fear was steadily rising in the back of his head.

 _I told you. He won’t._ Her words were dismayed but resigned, and a bitter kind of grief stirred in her that made Kylo feel like he was bleeding inside.

“She’s just a pleasure girl,” Kylo tried to sound unaffected. “With what I just offered, you could buy two more to replace her.”

“Not the point, friend,” Cato cocked his head to the side. “I gambled quite a bit to get her out from under Unkar’s fat thumb, so I fully plan to keep her.”

“Really?” Kylo scoffed. “You're willing to pass up a generous offer just because of a lucky hand of cards?”

“You’re not a gambling man, are you?” Cato smirked. Kylo grit his teeth. “You don't really grasp the sentimentality of a good prize won.”

His mind gave a passing thought to his father’s beloved _Millennium Falcon_ , and how adamantly he loved the outdated freighter. No, Kylo understood just fine, but the problem lay in how unacceptable that was in this moment. Rey could not stay here, not now, not when she was just coming to understand herself, not when their connection was already so deeply forged.

He could attempt to take her from here by force, but the importance of this business venture, and his Master’s wrath should he ruin it, stayed his hand.

He thought rapidly. Cato was not influenced by mind manipulation, he could not use the Force to make him give her up, unless...

 _Open yourself to the Force,_ he sent to Rey. His command was met with confusion, but he gently insisted. _Trust me._

She took a deep breath in, her power suddenly singing through their bond.

 _Good,_ he encouraged, _now I want you to concentrate as hard as you can on wanting him to agree. Let it fill your mind, let it fill the Force._

She obeyed, and Kylo added his will to hers as he spoke, _“You will accept my offer. You will bring up her contract and you will sign her over to me.”_

A thrill of victory thrummed through him as Cato’s face changed, the smug look slipping away and replaced with a dreamy sort of vacancy.

“I will accept your offer,” Cato echoed. “I will bring up her contract and sign her over to you.”

Rey was shocked, but he put his hand over hers on his shoulder for a moment. _Keep concentrating._

She refocused, the both of them concentrating together as Cato pulled her contract up on his datapad and filled out the appropriate paperwork to sign over her ownership.

He handed the datapad to Kylo wordlessly, and Kylo relished in filling out the subform that made her a free woman.

When it was done, Kylo stood, smiling freely under his mask with satisfaction. It was easy to bask in Rey’s joy, the way it was overflowing their bond and making him feel warm and giddy.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Kylo said cockily, and Rey kept her head down to hide her smirk.

The effect of their manipulation was wearing off, and Kylo sensed they would do well to take their leave.

 _Ready?_ he asked Rey, and she eagerly agreed.

They moved toward the door, then there was the sudden screech of a chair scraping the floor as Cato stood.

“You son of a bitch,” Cato growled.

Kylo paused, putting a protective hand low on Rey’s back.

“Careful, Cato,” he warned over his shoulder as Rey stepped a little closer to him in uneasiness.

“Careful? I should kill you both for your insolence!” Cato shouted in an angry snap, coming around the edge of the table like the utter fool he was.

Kylo turned around slowly, his hand on his lightsaber and his own anger starting to creep in.

“You certain you want to ruin a perfectly profitable business arrangement over ego, Mr. Cato?” Kylo said icily, and Cato’s furious face flicked down to Kylo’s hand on his weapon, drawing him up short.

A tense moment passed, Kylo and Cato staring each other down as Rey kept perfectly still by his side, afraid, but he could sense her trying not to show it.

“I will no longer do business with the First Order if they ever send you again,” Cato finally threatened in a hiss, but Kylo did not release his hold on his weapon just yet. “Tell Snoke to send a real officer, not his pet Sith.”

“Gladly,” Kylo snarled, and Cato’s mouth narrowed into a thin line. “I think we’re done here.”

Kylo finally released his lightsaber, and Rey’s relief mixed with his own as they turned once more to leave.

“Not so fast, Miss Rey,” Cato suddenly purred, sinister anger dripping from every word. “That fine little dress you’re wearing; I believe _that_ continues to belong to me.”

Rey froze, color rising to her face, and Kylo’s anger intensified. She clenched her jaw, but nodded.

“I’ll return to the slave quarters to fetch-”

“No,” Cato interrupted, “you will not _fetch_ anything. Those clothes belong to me, all of them. And they were not part of the contract.”

Kylo clenched his hands into tight fists, so angry at Cato’s blatant malice he could hear his own blood pounding in his ears.

“Cato-” he growled, taking a step forward, but Rey placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“No,” she said softly, “it’s alright.”

Resolution settled over her, and her chin tilted up defiantly as she reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it up over her head with a rough jerk. She stood there, unabashedly naked, as she wadded the dress up into a ball before throwing it at him.

Without a word, Kylo removed his cloak and placed it around her shoulders. She drew it around herself tightly, her head high and proud to spite her former master. Kylo had never been never prouder of another person in his life.

 _Let’s go_ , he sent, and they both turned for the door without another word.

The pleasure room passed by in a blur as they took their leave, neither of them allowing themselves to meet any of the curious stares they acquired along the way. It didn’t matter, they were both leaving it far behind.

He reached out to her through the Force, touching the whirlwind of power inside her that matched his own, and she answered with a gentle press along their shared connection. There was no fear, no hesitation in her; she was free, and she was safe with him.

He considered their vision of the future. He remembered the peace, in the Force and inside himself, everything in perfect balance.

He knew without question it was a future devoid of Snoke; how or when that would happen, he did not know, but he was completely firm in his certainty that it would come to pass.

He looked to Rey, his eyes tracing her profile before moving down to her neck, where her collar, her mark of slavery, once resided.

He had broken her chains, freed her from her past so she could become what she was meant to be.

Perhaps she would break his as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE AT THE END, AHH. Thanks to everyone who has read, commented, and kudo-ed this story, I love and appreciate you all so much! Extra special love and appreciation to [anerdslife4me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anerdslife4me) and [assortedfruitsnacks212](https://archiveofourown.org/users/assortedfruitsnacks212), who gave me so much of their time to help me with this story. You guys are rock stars to the millionth degree.
> 
> Though this was my first multi-chapter foray into the Reylo fandom, it won't be the last, so I hope you stay tuned. And if you have tumblr, come hang out: [faequeentitania](https://faequeentitania.tumblr.com).


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